


UGH

by criizmeow



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Music, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-09 06:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10406187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/criizmeow/pseuds/criizmeow





	1. Coffe and Baristas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KasPan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasPan/gifts).
  * A translation of [UGH](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/278541) by Senpay. 



Haruka asks himself if that´s all life was going to give him.  Wasting his afternoon feeling like a sweaty burrito of heavy clothes and academic mediocrity truthfully wasn’t something he wished as a kid. But he was probably going to die soon, whether it was because of the odor or the suffocation, and that was his only relieve.

“Please don’t stand next to the doors”, a voice said sarcastically from the speaker, at the same time that those doors opened in an act of mechanical coordination without precedents, and Haruka, as well as millions of other passengers, fell down the train.

He literally fell. He feels like his skin was a bag for the ground beef that are his insides. In that case, he thinks he might have wanted to use lighter clothes, to avoid demands of complaining buyers, and all of that.

There was no way of avoiding pedestrian traffic, but even so, Haruka decided to go against the rules of human nature and went up the stairs to the outside world instead of taking the elevator. By the time he was on the surface, he las 10% sweat and 50% regret. The other 40% had been lost on the way up.

And if that was not enough, it wasn’t like he was going anywhere. Well, in one part, he _was_ going to meet someone to see something about a job as an intern or voluntary service of some sort; but from the other, he knew it was useless.

The men –or women- was going to look at his face, they would whisper _“that’s an amazing imitation of a dying squirrel”_ to their assistant and direct him a sad smile while telling they would call.  Haruka would say thanks, for the squirrel compliment, systematically breaking the muscles on his cheeks to form a smile, and no more than five minutes later, he would be gone.

Therefore, Haruka Nanase wasn’t going anywhere. However, as her grandma used to say, you win something every day. Haru completely agreed with her; everyday he obtained a new type of humiliation to his always growing collection. He was proud of the enormousness of it, to be honest. He is used to think about his anthology of miseries every night.

It didn’t make sense that, despite this, his grandma expressed a bit of preoccupation now and then.

 _Even if I jumped in front of that car, the poor lady would have traumas for the rest of her life- or at least she could have a lot of problems with the insurance company._ Haru looked away from the frantic street, with his appetizingly fast cars, and continued putting one foot in front of the other. _I don’t want that._

Everything is going to be alright, he reassured himself while at the same time his steps were bringing him closer to the direction written on the note inside his pocket _. I go inside, stay for a couple of minutes, and get out,_ he closed his lips in a firm line and continued looking everywhere. _I go in and get out. And if I fail, maybe after I can go for a coffee,_ he observes the small coffee shop on his left, and doesn’t even know why he thought that.

_I don’t even like coffee._

_-_

Nothing bad happened. He went inside the building, got lost and end up in the bathroom, almost got stuck on the elevator because he didn’t know how to use it, found the right room, half smiled to the people there, tried in vain to understand what they were saying, receive a piece of paper, get out, went into the bathroom (this time on purpose), went downstairs, and left the building.

Now he was analyzing the galaxies inside his coffee mug. _That wasn’t so bad,_ him mind thought by itself while Haruka went through life as a completely automatized being. He was slightly dizzy.

Little by little, sip to sip, Haruka came back to his five senses. Eventually, a time after ordering his coffee and finding a place to sit on a table in a corner, he lift his eyes from his half empty and cold cup, and realized where he was. He didn’t do anything to alter his vision of the world, because he still didn’t know where he was, truly. Of course he knew the physical place, but not- forget it.

He took another sip of his coffee and watch the clock on the wall, that told him that probably he had been there for at least one hour _. I wonder if they did the comment about the squirrel._ He placed the paper they gave him on the table, and realized that he didn’t know what did it said. He had jumped to the conclusion that they rejected him, even if he believed that in that case they wouldn’t had bothered on giving him a note. He flip it up.

Haruka liked to think he was good at reading: it wasn´t one of his favorite activities, but he found it tolerable, -It was silent, individual, slightly threatening, and zero demanding. However, now that he has seeing the note, with words printed in black ink, he was started to doubt of his abilities.

“Office assistant on a publicity company? Impressive “said someone behind him and Haruka took a bite of his own soul before swallowing again. “Oh? Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Uughhhh-umm-hh,” Haruka´s mouth tried to speak before Haruka himself let it.

This is the reason I’m going to develop heart problems, he thought. He was feeling like he was almost trembling, but it was only his heartbeats shaking his entire body. He flipped to the right and observed the white shirt and black apron baristas used. He didn’t bother to see above his torso; that was one of his bas habits.

“It´s o-okay…” he did a perfect imitation of an elderly person on his death bed, tightening his grip on the mug of cold coffee.

“Would you like something to eat?”

He had the impression the barista was swinging from one foot to the other.

“No, thank you.”

“Another coffee?”

His voice was so soft and cheerful.

“No, thank you…”

“Anything else? A tea? Milk? We have really good hot chocolate.”

Well, at least one of us is happy to have a job, Haruka thought uncaringly.

“No, thank you…”

“Am I bothering you?”

“No, thank you….”

He didn’t say anything after that, and he took the chance to finish his drink. Around him, normal people had normal conversations, while they drink normal coffees on normal tables. Sometimes –meaning: always- Haru felt like he was the only antisocial human on the planet, which was a ridiculous idea, because the world is horrible and surely he wasn’t the only one to noticed it.

 _I’m and asshole,_ he frowns looking at his mug, at his hands, at his small bitten fingernails against the white china. He was alright, he was just having a bad day. Tomorrow he was going to get up and act like someone out of a commercial, all ambitious eyes and with a straight back, emanating confidence and success. They were going to forget about him in a couple of days.

He left out a laugh the length of a sigh, provoking somehow that his throat closed on itself. It hurt, like making him remember: _Hey, you are here. What you are now, is that you will be for the rest of your live. You never going to be better than this._

He bites his lip, and a second later, a glass of water was in front of him. “For the intrusion” said someone. Haruka looked back and saw the back of, what he assumed, was the barista from before. He didn’t want to talk, so he got the glass to his lips and swallow heavily, until the knot on his throat disappear and the water go down his guts instead of his eyes.

That’s what Rin talked about, back when they were in high school _. You are a charity case,_ he lectured, with his red eyes looking sharp and hands on his hips. _You attract so much sorrow that the others can’t stop helping you._ He finished the entire glass on one sit, refusing to get mad about the events from the past.

 _I’m a charity case_ , he understood now, walking out of the coffee with the promise he will go the next day. It was going to be his first day as a, office assistant, after all.

Said and done, Haruka went back the next day. Back to the hellish train, back to being systematically asphyxiated between the mases. The walk to the Future Fish quarters seemed shorter, and he just had to stop in the bathroom for a couple of minutes. Fir what he saw, he didn’t have a lot to do. Somebody had sent him a bunch of papers –trash- for him to take to the crusher machine, and that how he spend most of his time with no pay on the publicity company.

Making the world a better place, one crushed sheet at the time.

Until that moment, things were going better than he expected, with the additional bonus that he could imagine that the white pieces that came out of the machine were his brain. It was therapeutic, on some way. At some moment, somebody even asked him to go buy coffee, so he ran through the stairs to the boulevard. It wasn’t like he knew another place where to buy that stuff, or at least not another that wasn’t a dispenser machine.

The barista on the bar looked (a minor mistake from Haruka: he let his eyes go up) pretty pleased with himself to see the identification placed on his shirt, but he didn’t do any commentary about it, or about the disaster from the other day while Haru waited for his tray for four paper cups. He had the conscience of letting a good tip, this time, empting his pockets of change.

The day was going well, ad apparently Haruka had chosen the correct flavors; there wasn’t a single complain. He almost felt proud of himself, until he remembered the pills that he took at home to secure that positive attitude. But well, one does what he has to do.

By the time the day ended and the sky, or what you can see of the sky between the Tokyo skyscrapers was black, Haruka thought if idea of going back to the coffee for a fourth of fifth time on the same day was weird. Or the people in Future Fish drank too much coffee, or they just wanted and excuse for going to the bathroom constantly and don’t work; he wasn’t sure. He opened the door shyly, and the bell sound almost guilty.

“Good night”, the barista said instead of taking his order, and Haru keep his eyes stuck on the glass window, pretending to have interest on the variety of extremely expensive sweets. “How can I help you today?” he asked later, and Haruka redirect his attention to the menu on the wall, carefully avoiding visual contact.

“Eh, um…” the mocha varieties sound splendid, the lattes sounded horrible, the tea sounded fine, the Frappuccino sounded even better.

 _It’s been a long day, maybe I can ask for a mocha,_ he thought, while the sensation of being observed travel slowly through his spine. _Or a Frappuccino. But is cold outside, maybe he’s going to think that I’m weird?_ He looked back subtly. He was the only person at the bar. _But I really want something sweet, it doesn’t have to be coffee, I don’t even like coffee._ He curled his hands into fists at his sides.

“Coffee,” he said lowering his head, defeated. There wasn’t anything on the menu with a name short enough to be pronounced without getting stuck and look foolish.

“Hmm” the barista looked at him for a _mortifying_ second. “Okay” he accepted, like it has his duty deciding if Haruka´s order had logic or not.

After that he went to the side, working on the machines; Haruka dared to look around him, questioning why there was only one person working. The place looked rather empty, to be honest. _Maybe he just has simultaneous turns in rush hours_ , he theorized unnecessarily while waiting.

“Um, excuse me” the barista called and Haru looked at him so quickly he almost was able to look at his eyes –or at his face in general. _Ugh_ , he thought. Milk and sugar?

As an answer, he shrugs. “Yes, please….” He looked at him again when he turned. _Ugh_ , he thought again.

He was almost sure that the other was humming, but he was distracted with the sound of the bell: another person was in. Immediately he assumed the position of _first-person-in-a-line-with-the-eyes-of-impatient-clients-fixed-on-the-back._

“Do you mind if I improvise?” the barista asked again, without looking at him.

Haruka didn’t know the code word for _somebody-else-is-waiting,_ so instead he mumble quietly, “No, thank you…”

The barista looked back and walk towards him, with a notorious fault of coffee on his hands. “Does that mean that I can, or that I can’t?” he questioned with something that Haru thinks the rest would call humor. The he seemed to realize there was a person being Haruka. “Oh! I will help you in a minute” said happily and went back to the machines. “Yes?” He emphasized the word and Haruka observed him with apprehension before nodding.

 _Ugh_ , his mind comment about the situation.

After that, his cup was done in a second, and Haruka sit down on the same table from the day before, the result of a habit developed in just one day. He anxiously took a sip of the dense liquid, and stopped. He checks out his cup. His coffee didn’t taste exactly like coffee. He took another sip, with more confidence, and get to a conclusion. It didn’t taste bad either.

\--

Another day, just when Haruka went to buy the first coffee order of the day, the barista pushed a giant muffin at his direction. “Breakfast”, he declared, and Haruka asked himself if he was a full time employee.

“I, I don’t…” his free hand wandered around and his eyes jumped to the other´s face. _UGH_ , his mind screamed. “I don’t have change”, was able to say, so clearly that he felt bad Rin wasn´t there to listen to him. The pills were a wonderful thing, even though Haru´s were so horrible that practically acted as a placebo,

The other man direct him a smile, and put the muffin closer to him. “Don´t worry. Have a good day at job.”

Haruka took the muffin and went back to the quarters, asking himself is he was going to be sold to the black market so they can traffic with his organs. He added the cost of the muffin to the tip jar the next day.

\--

He truly didn’t understand why there was so many petitions of contract from Samezuka Company, or why in Fish they were so determined on sending them to the crushing machine. If he had to guess, Haru would said they were just an agency to enthusiastic that couldn’t get a no as an answer. Certainly they seem happy of being destroyed –using mechanic terms- to pieces, so he swallowed all of his question and keep doing it.

A week had passed, and he wasn’t dead or had committed suicide, thing his parents would be grateful for; they didn´t have to paid for his funeral.

The other day, Haruka had tried to see the name in the identification of the barista, while he was waiting for the Americanos the he ordered that morning. He failed completely to do it and being subtle, and when the barista looked at him directly, evidently ready to say hi, Haruka maintain his eyes firmly glued to the trashcan.

It wasn’t strange not talking to the barista that attended to him almost every day. He was doing quite well not speaking to people he knew even more time. Although, of course, those other persons didn’t offer him free breakfast.

 _I don’t even like coffee,_ he thought for the million time, waiting in line to buy one. His conscience was full with remorse. _Well, unless it was an emergency_ , he granted. Certainly he didn’t like coffee as much as to go for one at nine pm.

 _For how long have I´ve being doing this?_ He questioned himself when he got to be the second in line and started to get his wallet out. _Surely they were going to think I’m planning something._ Planning on being a freak, that is.

 _Its late, this is completely and absolutely unnecessary, I have classes tomorrow,_ he scanned the menu on the wall and start to practice the word _tea_ in his mind. _What am I doing with my life?_ He refused to consider the possibility of that he _didn’t have_ a life.

“Hello”, the men behind the bar greeted, and Haru didn´t have to look at him to known he was smiling with the intensity of a sun ray. The worst part was that he didn´t have to do it, but he still did it. _Ugh_ … his mind cried.

The word tea was on the tip of his tongue, ready to be said. But instead, he mumbled a pathetic “Hello”, and proceed to look away.

“What can I help you with?” there was other persons in the coffee shop, probably because it was Friday and it was rush hour.

Haruka noticed that the time seemed to slow down when he was in front of the barista. That complicated his decision on whether he needed to rush to tell him his order. “Tea, please” was able to say and, a second later, “To take”. Too many people for his taste.

“Coming right up”, the barista took the money from the table and gave him his change. Blue eyes looked at his identification, they memorized it, and looked away. “are you okay?” the other asked, causing Haru to look up with surprise. Emerald green eyes, a warm smile just for him. His mind was practically crying.

 _I shouldn’t delay the line_ , he reminded himself and jumped to the right, where his cup of tea was waiting.

On the walk to the train station, and indirectly, to their parent’s apartment, Haruka thought on why his barista couldn’t be a really elderly man. _In that case he would have unchained my emotional traumas related to my father,_ his brain reminded him, after getting over his tantrum.

But anyway, that would have been better than this. Haruka couldn’t remember the last time someone like _him_ had directed a word at him. Sure, there was Rin, but Rin didn’t count because, well, he was… _Rin_. There was also Kisumi, but they didn’t talk that much anymore. Kisumi, the barista reminds me of Kisumi, Haruka theorized.

 _Maybe is that…_ he almost fooled himself for a moment. He remembered the features on his face. He didn’t look at all like Kisumi. But…

 _Ugh_ , his mind completed.

“Ugh” Haru answered, raising the cup to his lips.

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Encounters and Music

Haruka Nanase, _theoretically_ , didn’t live alone; the apartment wasn´t, in any way, his, but of his parents, that have moved to Tokyo for work reasons while he was ending the high school on Iwatobi; however, being the _free spirits_ that they are, rarely occupied it, opting to see the world with the excuse of having to travel for work.

But he didn’t hold resentment. They have good intentions, and even if they weren’t really all the time for him, he didn’t have anything to complain.

So, when he was accepted in _Geidai_ , in Tokyo, instead of searching for his own apartment, he decided to stay with his parents. After the first week of classes, just as he imagined, they were traveling to France.

Haruka Nanase _, in practice_ , lived alone. And didn’t have any problem with that.

When he began, college submerged him on a wave of stress and insecurities. A year from that had already passed, and he could say that he was used to the melodic cries of art students desesperated for a drop of inspiration. He almost was happy for the hours he passed with the screaming people in Future Fish. Almost.

Haruka was still a burrito of misery and sweat every time he arrived to the office; the climate didn’t seem to decide if it wanted to be colder or hotter. The middle of his face was covered on a blue scarf that his mother said belonged to his grandma. He didn’t feel any connection to the garment, but couldn’t be exigent with the clothes, especially when they were free. He had had that scarf for years. He dug it up himself from his mother´s closet.

He usually went to Fish at the afternoons, when he had classes in the morning or wanted to practice violin at midday, other times he went at the morning, when he has seminaries at the afternoon or a paint to finish at night. It was in that last case that he decided to go and order the first coffee before going upstairs to the publicity agency. If he didn’t do it now, they would ask him for their daily doses of caffeine some time later, and it wasn’t like their orders were going to change that much.

A couple of weeks had passed and finally he realized that the baristas changed from time to time. He definitely didn’t pay attention intentionally; it was just that he could notice when _that men_ wasn’t serving him.

Haruka had to physically remove the scarf from his mouth to be able to order the same as always. It was still early in the morning, it was silent, just before the rush hour. They were the only people on the coffee. Haru kept his fingers busy with the fabric material to not think about that.

“How is job going?” the green eyed asked, serving black coffee on a polystyrene cup. _Makoto Tachibana_ , Haruka read one time in the identification secured to his uniform.

His eyes traveled nervously to him and to his surroundings. “Is…. Is going well” he answered, the first words he had spoken that day. It felt weird, like he was answering a dialog on a movie.

“Oh… is a pity, this weather. I don’t envy anyone that has to go out of bed so early with this temperature” Makoto said and filled the third of forth cups. Haru touched gently his scarf, questioning the reality, questioning if he was really talking to him about the weather. “I mean, I’m also here, after all” he continued, giving him a smile.

“I guess...” he mumbled, almost too quiet to be heard. For who knows why, he keeps talking. “I came in train, so… is not that bad.”

“Ah, is nice to hear that” he brings the four cups on a cardboard tray. He sounded _almost_ sincere, Haru thought, discouraged. I wish. “Now that I think about it, isn’t too early for you?” Makoto asked while Haru paid for the drinks.

It took him a moment to understand what he meant – he gave a look at the clock on the wall. “There still one before I have to enter, yes…”  he granted, even if it was just because now that he was speaking, he didn’t know how to stop.

 _Doing everything in excess_ , Rin said one day. Haru couldn’t agree more. He just had switches, not gears.

However, Makoto looked undaunted for his unusual sociability. All the contrary, even. “Wouldn’t you like if I bring you a coffee too? You can go and sit, if you want, I’m not going to take too long.”

“No, I…” Haru panicked for a second, and squeezed his scarf, then let go. “Um… yes, thank you”

A warm gesture lightened the others face. “I’ll bring it to your table” there was a subtle change from his other smiles. Haruka considered the hypothesis of if all just being a huge hallucination.

Anyway, he took his tray and walked to a table close enough to the bar. After a moment of doubt in front of the chair, he took out his scarf and jacket. The air of the establishment felt colder with him just wearing a loose black shirt.

“I never understood how you take your coffee” Makoto said before Haru had the opportunity to sir. He freezes and looked over his shoulder. Makoto smiled from the coffee maker. “I think you never said it to me”

Haruka looked away to the wooden floor, his dry lips pressed onto a line. “Two packets of sugar and milk” he mumbled before sitting down.

“I got it” Makoto pushed a button and shortly after the place was filled with the aroma of ground coffee.

There was enough time for Haru to analyze what he was doing, or at least to try to do it. There he was, sitting on an empty coffee shop, at a really early time in the morning, talking to the barista like he was a normal person. A perfectly functioning person that didn’t find loathsome the idea of opening his eyes every morning, and that can interact without problems with friendly, handsome baristas that displayed a smile to his direction every time they looked at him.

 _A completely functional person wouldn’t make such a big deal about this. They wouldn’t be doing any of this,_ Haruka scolded himself. It was just filler talk. Trivialities. It didn’t matter trivial conversations were the only kind of conversations Haruka had in all day.

“There you have”, a china cup appeared in front of him. He didn’t notice the coffee machine had stoped.

Instinctively, he warped It with his hands around it. He should had brought gloves. “Thank you…” he said without moving his eyes from the drink, even if he knew that Makoto still was standing beside the table.

The other didn’t do any comments, and soon, Haruka was left alone. The bar was behind him, so he couldn’t look back without being extremely obvious, but based on the sounds he heard, Makoto wasn’t doing anything besides accommodating cups and dishes.

 _Maybe I even start to like coffee, if I keep drinking it every day_ , he thinks, and gets surprised to feel a touch of relieve in front of that. He took a sip and slightly nod with his head. _Definitely_. So maybe he would stop feeling like a fish out of water every time he goes there.

He was there for twenty minutes, for the first time drinking his coffee when it was still warm, and hang his jacket again before taking the cup to the bar. The store was still empty, even after someone entered for an espresso to take a time ago.

Makoto was drying china with a handkerchief when Haruka left his cup, bringing a hand to his pocket to look for his wallet.

“Don’t worry” he heard him say, like always, but even so he placed the correct money beside the cup. “Have a nice day” Makoto laugh.

Haruka wasn’t used to have people smiling in that way, like it was something specifically for him and not because a joke or a situation. It makes him feel vacant and inadequate, since he would never be able to return the favor with a gesture of his own. To make things worse, he was still making peace with the fact that he really liked the barista´s face, with or without smile. Why he couldn’t control better his feelings?

“Thanks….” He said, and went back to the table to button his jacket on and put his scarf on. The temperature wasn’t better, but, for some reason, his clothes felt warmer. He got out of the coffee, starting to prepare to go back on a few hours.

\--

Haruka didn’t think on finding him, on all the possible places, the street. It was pretty absurd, actually, considering that the 50% of the time he was outside of the house was, affectively, on the street, with a 40% additional on college. Even so, Haru never encountered with acquaintances. The coincidences simply weren’t something that happened to him.

So, it was a total surprise almost clashing with Makoto when he was just meters ago from the Geidai Conservatorium. But it wasn’t a problem, he could always avoid him and act like it was nothing. I mean, who in his right mind would start talking with their barista if they found him on the street? It was like starting a conversation with the cashier out of the supermarket, he tried to reason.

Or reasoning wasn’t his forte, or he was the only rational person left on the world, because Makoto put his bicycle closer to him. “Hi” he greeted, like as they were friends their whole life. Haruka wasn’t even sure if the dude even knew his name, even as much he remembered he watched him looking at his identification, one time.

“Hello” he offered, he couldn’t resist, because he was a human with little willpower. He hasn’t noticed how tall, and honestly, huge, the green eyed was; Haruka was just as tall as his shoulder – maybe as his nose, if he stood on the tip of his toes. He supposes he would have noticed since the first time he saw it, but, well, he has never been the most perceptive or attentive person on the world.

Makoto pointed to the Conservatorium. “Are you going there too?” Haruka nodded, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his nervousness. For a moment, Makoto´s smile expanded, but then something seemed to click behind his eyes. “Do you know how to play something? He asked, like it was something amazing, learning about music. _There isn’t anything interesting about it_ , Haru thought, remembering all the looks of sadness that he received when he told that, even if he was going to study visual arts, he still wanted to be involved in music, because _you’re going to waste your life, spending on foolish things like arts, Nanase._ He nodded again. “What do you play?”

And suddenly they were walking together, he towards the building and Makoto maybe looking for a place to left his bicycle. _It´s too cold, how can you ride that thing?_ Haruka make a small pout with his lips and hid his chin behind his scarf.

“Violin…” he said and stopped to wait while Makoto chained his bicycle to a bar. He couldn’t imagine the barista riding it, to tell the truth: there was no way that someone of his size would look remotely decent on that soft orange colored bicycle in the middle of the winter. It was a pretty absurd image.

“Really?” say when he finished, and his eyes seemed to sparkle in the middle of the storm. If I had to compare them to something, Haruka would say they reminded him of stars, but they were more lively, they shined stronger. The stars were left short on comparison. “I know a bit of piano, but is nothing special” He let out a little laugh. “More than anything I just like to listen to music. In what year are you?”

“Second” Haruka mentioned, going upstairs to the front entrance. “But, uh, that’s not my career; I’m taking visual arts. I just like to came here to play.”

“Ah, I understand” Makoto made a sound from the back of his throat, finishing on a contained laugh. “So, second year, and you are already working on Future Fish?”

“I’m just an intern” He felt a little irritated from the comment, to be honest, opening the door and holding for his companion. “I had to look for a kind of working experience. Is not like _this_ ” he look around for a little, “is going to help me a lot”

He listened to the damn laugh again “Don’t say that, the arts are important. One of the best creations of humanity”

 _Are you real?_ Haruka looked back to see him, half scared that he wasn’t, half scared that he was. He didn’t expect that someone like him was going to defend the arts. Makoto looked so… capable of doing something with his life, even if at that time he was working as a barista.

“What compositors do you like?” Makoto asked when Haruka didn’t spoke, inclining his head to the side.

“I don’t know… Saint-Saëns, Handel” Haruka tried to make less of the question, acting like he didn’t spend most of his life listening and playing music.

“I like Beethoven, and Vivaldi. Do you also like Bach?” Haruka nodded for the million time, and Makoto entered the elevator with him. “I thought so” he smiled. “There is a minuet on G mayor, I believe that is BWV 841? Have you heard it?” He nodded again, since apparently saying a simple yes was too much work. “I like it a lot”

The elevator advanced with agonizing slowness, something that Haruka haven’t noticed until that moment, and he had to go to one of the higher floors. Even inside there, the sound of the other classes could be heard. It wasn’t a surprise that Haruka usually ended up with melodies still revolving on his head.

“Ey… Haruka?” he focused on Makoto instantaneously, receiving a smile in return. “Nothing, I just wanted to make sure” Haruka truly had no idea of what was happening, but the other offered him a hand. “Makoto Tachibana”

Haruka nodded, he realized moving his head up and down wasn’t going to be enough, he hold his breath, and took his hand. “Haruka Nanase”. When was the only time he touched someone’s hand? _Probably on second school year, when Rin forced him to go with him to the floor._

_\--_

Makoto liked to improvise; he discovered this indirectly when he communicated him that he didn’t care how he did his coffee, as long as it wasn’t too strong – he already had enough problems to sleep, he didn’t need an excess of caffeine to make them worse.

He didn’t know how to act, seeing him again in the coffee after founding him on the Conservatorium. But soon he realized that he wasn’t able to act on a different way with persons. _Switches, not gears_ , like he said before

In his defense, he was trying to be as less clumsy as possible, but he had the impression that Makoto didn’t care. When he gave him his cup, it was a thick concoction of cream, sprinkles and syrup, and Haruka tried to not see it with much skepticism.

“Don’t this cost a fortune?” he asked, taking a bunch of napkins in case he spilled something on the way to his table.

“Not at all! Is your drink +1“Makoto declared, almost proudly, and Haruka winked a couple of times to his direction.

“But… I just get a coupon yesterday.”

And, _Of course_ , the barista immediately gave him a new one. “And now I’m giving you other. I hope you enjoy it!”

 _Why you seem so please with yourself?_ Haruka analyzed, suspicious, before going back to his seat. It was getting dark and the coffee was full, but he can handle it. _At this rate, is not a mystery I have insomnia every night._ His sleep patter had transformed in a monster that begun at 3 am, if he was lucky. But he couldn’t say that everything was bad. He liked to have something to talk with.

\--

It took him four months, but Haruka finally was able to get something else to do besides crushing paper. Apparently, now he had to took documents to the top floor, go to the fifth, to the third, go back to the eight, and so on. During the first week on his new activities program, his knees seemed to shake at all times.

On occasions, however, he still crushed Samezuka´s petitions until they told him he could go, so everything was alright.

 _Maybe they are observing me like a part of a social experiment_? Haruka asked himself one day, going downstairs, with a kilo of sheets between his arms. _How much are able to endure college students for a little of experience?_ he turned on a corner and keep walking, _how much can we abuse them?_ Now he had to go upstairs. _How much they can cry on one day?_

He had encountered –by pure coincidence- with Makoto on the Conservatorium exactly three times during that time. They haven’t talked too much, what Haruka found _splendid._ With a vague comprehension of humans, he understood that, even if Makoto was good making conversation with people, he didn’t feel the _need_ to do it all the time. That made that breathing on his presence was easier.

After another round of running up and down, the slow walk to the coffee felt almost like a nap. Or, maybe, he was just incredibly tired and in danger of passing out in the middle of the street. His working hours had changed a little, and it was around 12 m that he passes to the store before to his apartment. And, from there, he would pass the rest of the day working on a project that he needed to submit on a couple of days. He supposed he didn’t need to be so stressed about a stranger being there to take his order. It sometimes happened, naturally; Makoto couldn’t work all day, every day.

He asked for a tea to take, like he always did every time that the barista didn’t have emerald eyes, and he was on the process to leave when he heard steps behind him.

“Wait!” speaking of the king of Rome, there it was Makoto, with his ridiculous parka and pants mustard color and red cravat. As always, Haru check out his clothing election s with amazement and horror. “Luck, I was just about to leave through the back door” he announced with a bright expression, like it didn’t cost nothing to pull the sides of his mouth up, not even an ounce of energy, and Haruka opened the door for him.

Outside, he was groping his milk with tea with both hands, like a shield, praying that his backpack wasn’t going to slide from his shoulder, and trying to repress the shaking of his teeth.

Makoto, on the other side, looked like nothing in the world could defeat him.

 _I wonder when I said I was ok with this_ , Haruka buried his face on the blue scarf. He didn’t know if talking to someone sometimes outside work was enough so the fact of walking together was considered normal. Then, the most disturbing idea came to his fragile mind.

_Are we friends?_

“How was your day?” Makoto asked, like he always did.

“Good” Haruka answer, like he almost-always did.

 _I haven’t made new friends in years._ He was panicking, but that wasn’t nothing new. He drinks a little of his tea, the sensation dissipating until just becoming a buzz on the bottom of his chest. They walked in silence. Haruka wasn’t sure if they he needed to say something before arriving to the train station.

“Hey, Haruka” Makoto, fortunately, resolve the dilemma for him, and Haru looked at him with plenty of gratitude. “Would you mind giving me your cellphone number?

He almost let the tea fell down.


	3. Pancakes and duets

_How did I end here?_ Haruka observed his phone at midnight. It shined white and blue on his face, the room was only illuminated by a lamppost outside his window.

Friendships did not arrive to his live, and even less the ones without a reason behind. He just become friends with Rei and Nagisa on high school because they seemed to also go to the roof on the lunchbreak. When he part to go to college, he started to hear about them only on Christmas. _They are busy_ , he imagined. It wasn’t like he was putting too much effort either, to be honest.

Despite his fear, Makoto send him messages just occasionally. And most of them were to keep Haruka up with the mood of his cat. It wouldn’t have thought Makoto was a cat lover. But, well, how he would know.

He felt weird, at the beginning, looking at his phone buzzing and didn’t find Rin´s name on the screen. Now that he thought about it, he needed to change the password, in case the before mentioned got curious during winter vacations.

And, then, hell unleashed on Earth.

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_15:37 PM_

_Would you like to go for lunch tomorrow?_ (❀◦‿◦)

The message has arrived in the afternoon, so it wasn’t at all irrational. Haruka had a cough attack, drowning while he was drinking his herbal supplements; his mom, that arrived from Singapore days ago, told him to stop being so dramatic and to take some cough syrup, he hadn’t seen Makoto that day; his shifts didn’t coincide, which make the situation even more confusing.

He decided to leave the message to rest for a bit. He probably texted the wrong number, he reflected, holding his breath. He waited in the kitchen for seven minutes before admitting that there might me a slight possibility that the message was indeed for him. He tried to text back.

_I don’t like eating in pu-_

And he stopped. What was he thinking? He got out of the kitchen, and walked to his room in silence, so he didn’t disturb his parents more than necessary. When he was behind the closed door, he made another try.

_I think I can’t, sorr-_

 

He paused again. It was true, he didn’t like to eat in public and, honestly, he didn’t think he would be able to act normal enough to go. Why couldn’t it be just another news about his cat? he thought afflicted, sitting on his desk. The mere existence of that text without answer has eating his guts. He didn’t know how to reject someone. Usually they didn’t give his that option.

Makoto was so kind. He asked permission to do anything and always waited for an answer. It was ridiculous. _What I’m afraid of?_ He frowned and bite his lip.

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_15:51 PM_

_Okay_

An eternity and a half passed before his phone buzzed again on his hand.

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_15:53 PM_

_Aaaahh! Is okay to you at 3:30?_ (๑^ں^๑)

 _What am I doing, what am I doing,_ his mind sang to keep distracted while Haruka was actively trying to not have a heart attack.   He tightens his chin.

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_15:55 PM_

_Yes._

He felt like he was falling, but slowly. He took a deep breath and, somehow, he felt better.

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_15:58 PM_

_Then see you at the station close to the conservatorium_ ~ ( ﾉ^.^)ﾉ

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_16:00 PM_

_Alright._

Haruka asked himself if Makoto actually smiled while he write.

Thrust on Makoto´s fashion sense to make even Haruka feel adequate in public. He stared at him for a moment before approaching him. _Orange boots,_ was one of the first things he noticed. _And a scarf with a fish pattern._ He had to admit, he liked that one. Meanwhile, he had too much cold to wear something that wasn’t his warmer clothes, which was... basically all he had worn the past weeks.

“Sorry”, he articulated, because that was what they had teach him to say when he wasn’t the first to arrive. _I get here early too…_

Makoto didn’t seem to be bothered. He was scanning the boulevard with a smile. Once satisfied with what he saw, he looked at Haruka. “Are you cold?” He sounded- who knows why- almost surprised- Blue eyes looked at his direction when the other looked back. “Your nose is red” Makoto continued, with his gaze still wandering through the place, a smile was hidden in his voice.

“What are you looking for?” the violinist draws the subject. He was still being persuaded to talk, and his teeth hurt from the cold.

This time, green eyes landed on him. “pigeons” he announced, simply. “Where would you like to eat?” Haruka shrug. “Well, I you like it, a feel like having pancakes” He must have felt the gaze he received. “What’s wrong?”

Haruka fixed his scarf and decided to keep his mouth shut.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Makoto was able to find a restaurant that specifically prepared pancakes. It was Tokyo, after all; with way more variety than the restaurants from Iwatobi.

The place was on the second floor of a building with brick walls. It didn’t draw much attention, with just read neon tellers over the narrow door announcing the name of the restaurant. The interior was small, even smaller than the coffee where Makoto worked- with minimalist decoration, and even if it lacked of space, it was balanced with the most comfortable seats that Haruka had the pleasure to meet. It helped with the atmosphere. Still, the tables weren’t too big.

“I never see you the weekends” Makoto recovered his attention. “On the conservatorium,” he clarified.

Blue eyes traveled from his partner to the ice cream on top of his order. He continued to touch the bread with his fork. “Those are my free days, I just go when I have art classes in the morning…”

In retrospective, he must had known that that wasn’t the best answer he could have given. “Ah, ok, I suppose it is too much going every day when that isn’t even your career. But, speaking of free days, what are your hobbies, Haruka?

The above-mentioned looked at him from under his eyelashes, biting his lip, trying to transmit his answer using just his gaze. He went back to his pancakes, denying with his head.

“None? Are you sure? Makoto asked, entertained, continuing with his food, which was, _inexplicably_ , the child’s menu, disconcerting infinitely to the restaurant workers. It consisted of pancakes decorated with chocolate syrup, to look like a surf table, with bubblegum ice cream on the sides to look like waves, and a cup (With a happy face, even) filled with glazed cookies in form of stars. Haruka asked himself if Makoto had an insatiable desire to get diabetes.

Concluding he also wanted to begin to eat, he formed a short sentence. “I swim sometimes… and I suppose I also listen to music and read a little” He didn’t want to mention his habit of hiding on the bathtub for hours; that wasn’t something that Makoto, or anyone, needed to know.

“So, we are alike” he smiled like if the sun had finally coming up from behind the clouds. “I stopped swimming on high school, but I still like it. I also go to the Conservatorium when I don´t have anything else to do, and at nigh I take KitKat for a walk.”

 _KitKat sounds like a too spoiled cat_ , Haruka though, chewing with the patience of a million universes. _But, anyway, Makoto seems to be pretty normal_ , he looked at him, to check if his last thought didn’t make him suddenly grew wings or something, just to do the opposite.

Haruka still couldn’t believe that Makoto wasn’t living his life on other place. It was strange to see him on his job, read his messages about how much his cat enjoyed to hide his socks, and being there, having lunch with him a Sunday afternoon, and knowing that all of that was part of Makoto´s life. That he wasn’t part of a filler between important events.

“KitKats seems to be nice,” Haruka commented, because up until that moment he hadn’t said anything about her, even if Makoto hadn’t stopped speaking about her since they shared numbers weeks ago.

The other smiled. “She is” And began to tell an exciting story about how the other night he found her fighting with an owl on the balcony and had to get her inside his apartment by force. Haruka had deducted time ago that Makoto lived alone; another thing that made him seen untouchable. “I have to introduce her to you, one of this days.”

Haruka stopped playing with her food, “To me?”

 _Duh_ , he imagined Makoto saying. “We are the only ones here, right?” the other reassure on his own version of what Haruka was thinking.

He made a sound from his throat, that he wishes sounded like he was saying yes, and put all his attention back to his dish. Someway, that last declaration put him on nerves, even if he wasn’t sure why. He wished he would stop playing with his food and eat it, just to distract himself.

“Eh, Haruka,” and Makoto´s fingers brushed against his knuckles for a moment, contrasting his slightly tanned skin with his own pale one. At the beginning, Haruka couldn’t move. After he thought _do it again_. “How good did you say you are with the violin?” he looked totally calm.

His hand was numb around the fork. “Why do you ask?” he questioned cautiously.

I didn’t matter. Makoto had an indecipherable smile on his lips. “Have you ever played a violin and piano duet?”

Makoto was obsessed with coupons. Every time that Haruka went to get coffee for the people on Fish, he looked too pleased to change each of Haruka´s card, telling him to come back after for a free Cappuccino. When he wasn’t the one to take his order, the system worked perfectly and they just gave the violinist one coupon per day, like it should be. Of course, the next day Makoto looked at the card like seeing a spoiled kid and gave him three more coupons.

Haruka decided to play his game. It would be a type of punishment for not accepting not even one free coffee when he started to frequent the place. He still didn’t understand, however, when did it came and where it was coming from all Makoto´s kindness. It wasn’t like Haruka had the temper to be a good friend. He didn’t have the temper to be… well, _nothing._

“Good morning, Haruka!” Makoto said on that time, enjoying the emptiness of the store. There was another barista, behind him, washing the dishes, but that was all. Haruka had come a little early, again. He had already stopped trying to convince himself that it wasn’t on purpose.

“Good morning,” he takes out the needed money for the order of the other employees and started to unbutton his jacket while he waited Makoto to finish filling the cups.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he believed to listen more humming of songs of Handel after he told him that it was one of his favorite composers. Haruka had no idea of how Makoto was able to hum _The Harmonious Blacksmith_ so clearly, but he was.

“Today is colder than usual” he commented, stopping at the middle of the song. Haruka looked up with no much interest, watching his hands while he put the paper cups on the cardboard tray “Do you want hot chocolate?”

Haruka was, effectively, freezing, but he didn’t think of saying it out loud. Even if he had lost the circulation in his fingers, his hands slightly bluish and his nose blushing because the low temperatures. After so many weeks under that weather, maybe the winter was finally going to come.

He nodded, pulling the tray to his body, warming his fingers against the warm polystyrene. “Yes, thank you”

“Are you still free on Saturday?” Makoto asked while preparing his tools- principally cocoa and cinnamon and, Haruka frowned, hazelnut syrup, for some reason.

The answer was in the tip of his tongue when the barista looked back and change words with the other employee, that now was arranging cups. The other enter into the kitchen behind the bar and Makoto, all smiles, went back to Haruka.

“Yes, I think” he answered, tracing the rim of the cups with the tip of his finger. “Do you think they would let us in?”

“Sure,” Makoto put a cup of hot chocolate in front of him, the vapor floating above, and started a strange ritual to add whipped cream. “I go there all the time, and never somebody has told me nothing, and I think neither had they said anything to you?” The artist denies with his head. “Also at that hour usually there is not more classes.”

“I know, but…” Haruka had a hard time trying to concentrate while he looked at him making different shapes on the cream. “Asking for the piano salon just to ourselves is another thing that entering to open classes.”

The barista continued with the preparation, spreading powder cocoa over his masterpiece. “Maybe we don´t study music specifically, but we go to Geidai, after all; I think that counts on our defense.”

“Are you in Geidai?” and Haruka didn’t recognize his own voice at that moment.

Makoto looked at him sideways and smiled “Ah, you didn’t know it? I tough it was obvious, when we encountered at the Conservatorium.”

“You said you were there just to listen- I imagined that… you didn’t study?” _Really, Haru? Really?_ he almost threw his hand against the bar.

“Eh? Really?”

Haruka blinked. “So you are still on college? On _my_ college?” Makoto make an affirmative sound. “But you are here all the time,” he added, confused, and the barista, to Haruka´s surprise, started laughing.

“That is just a very fortunate coincidence” Until that he started to add the syrup, which didn’t have much sense. Haruka thought about how that thing would taste.

“What do you study?” he inquired, eyes still fixed on the cup.

“Literature and Creative Writing,” he looked at him and he must had noticed Haruka´s pout, because he started to laugh again. “Don’t show that face,” He almost cooed and Haruka didn’t want anything else besides hide under his scarf.

Deceiving his instincts, he continued frowning. “It´s my normal face.”

“No, it isn´t,” Makoto cover his mouth with his hand, but his eyes showed a smile. Haruka felt his face blushing. Luckily, the green eyed decided that moment for looking up his shoulder, listening to the other barista coming back. “Wait a second.”

It seemed to be, that the other barista went looking for a variety of desserts for the counter. Makoto came back with a pair of cookies freshly made and put them on a plate, besides Haruka´s drink.

“I- I´m going to be late” he separated his hands from the cups to shake them a little in front of him, in a try to remark his sentence.

“Don´t worry,” Makoto used _that_ voice – soft tome capable of calming anyone- while he took a plate on one hand and the chocolate in the other, indicating Haruka to go to a table. “They can´t complain; you are going to bring them coffee.”

“That… that’s the point….,” he murmured, defeated, and followed him. “Who know how they will become without caffeine…”

“Extra happy to see you when you arrive?” the taller one put ´His order´ over the table and stayed staring at him until Haruka gave up and take his jacket off.

“They are going to fire me because you”

In front of that, Makoto raised a brow, his face turning a little worried, and Haruka didn’t knew wht that image bother him so much. “Do they pay you?”

He snorted, looking away to a point on the distance. “It seems that, no…”

He listened to a muffled laugh and felt Makoto´s hand on his shoulder. “Well, _if_ they fire you, you can complain to me on Saturday.”

They didn’t fire him. Of course. They didn’t even _notice_ that he was late. But Haruka didn’t have any plan of admitting that the next time he saw Makoto. His father looked at him weird when he got out of the apartment a second Saturday in a row, but maybe it was because he remembered Haruka lived there too. Whatever it was, he didn’t stay to find it.

He arrived to the Conservatorium to, too, early, and had to wait ten minutes outside. Giving the usual election of clothing of Makoto. If he could call it usual for the fourth times they had seen outside the coffee—he didn’t doubt he could find him easily when he showed up, but he still felt bad about going inside without him. The air was so cold that it seemed static, the breeze wasn’t able to pass through it.

And of course it didn’t go as planned, because when he arrived. Makoto worried a lot more of what he seemed capable of and made an unnecessary fuss about how _you should have waited inside, it is too cold, you can get sick, Haruka_! He had to stay in front of a heater for fifteen minutes before Makoto declared it was safe to go to the piano room.

Once there, Haruka take his violin out of their case and observed it with apprehension. _How long has it been? Two weeks? I don’t remember,_ he licked his cracked lips and made a show of unbuttoning his jacket. _It’s now life or death, but if I don’t play well is going to be really awkward for the two of us._

 _“_ Haruka?” Makoto called, returning him to Earth. He was besides the piano, using a green sweater with a cat sew on the front that almost made the violinist smile.

“Um.” He prepared, “I not sure of how good I can play….” He had never played a duet; even when he entered open classes, he just sated on a corner to practice. _But he said he wasn’t good with the piano either, so…._

 “Don’t worry, you can just get better,” Makoto take his place on the piano. “Also I know you are going to do it fine. You have musician hands,”

Haruka opted on not sitting down, instead he got ready standing beside Makoto, He put his violin against his shoulder and took his arc. “How do you know it?”

“Intuition,” he smiled, his hands floating over the tiles. “Are you ready?”

Or Makoto had tried to be humble, or he really underrated his own talent, because he played like a professional. He played so fluently that Haruka had to stop on one point and just admire the quickness he was able to plat with closed eyes. He felt the necessity of saw the music sheets to make sure that Makoto was truly respecting them and not just moving his fingers like a madman.

One way or the other, it sounded good, even when Haruka accompanied him with the violin, so he got over the stupefaction and played beside him, getting over the feeling that he was in massive danger every time he went off-key.

“I told you” Makoto smiled at him when they finished, the corners of his eyes wrinkled, “I knew we would make a good duet, Haruka.”

And, maybe because that smile fogs his mind and didn’t let them think, he mumbles, “Haru.”

“Excuse me?”

“---you can call me Haru…” he rectified, the blood rushing to get to her head. Letting someone call him by a nickname shouldn’t felt so intimate.

“So, do you want to play this one too, Haru?” Makoto smiled, and Haru noticed that the points of his ears looked a little red.

He takes out a music sheet from his backpack and gest up to show it to the violinist. He walked towards him, ignoring all social rules about the _personal space_ , he got so close that his arm brushed against Haru´s, he inclined a little more towards him and put the notes on the visual sight of them both. The laundry detergent smell of his clothes was the only thing that made Haruka notice the close they were, and, subsequently, the notorious fault of disgust in front of proximity; he can even tell that he was comfortable being on his side. He just noticed that he was relaxed when he stopped feeling like that.

“If you want” he nodded, forcing himself to go back to that tranquility state. “J-just… try to play slowly, please,” he mumbles, his cheeks blushing from embarrassment; and making his eyes look to the other side; Makoto left out a laugh, accepting his terms and placing the sheets on the correct place.

The sleeves of his sweater fell to his knuckles when his hand went down, and go back to his wrists when they got up. He would like to relax and stop looking so much to his hands. That his arc stopped shaking every time that the tempo of the song accelerates. That shivers didn’t travel through his spine each time he looked at Makoto and founded him so immerse of the song. _It’s not a big dea_ l, he told to himself, closing his eyes, finally founding peace and concentrating on the tune. And if Makoto found out about the little smile decorating his face, he didn’t do anything besides playing with more enthusiasm.

 

 

 


	4. Fish and Stars

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_18:24 PM_

_KitKat is giving me a cold shoulder_ （ﾉ´д｀）

_18:24 PM_

_I’m giving her fresh salmon and painful looks like a peace offer…_

_18:25 PM_

_Speaking of fishes, I heard that a new aquarium opened! Do you want to go this weekend?_

Haruka had wasted all of his excuses repertory; whether he liked it or not, he and Makoto had a routine. The last weekend, he had to help his mom to unpack a new furniture set for the living room; with that event, Haruka remember how, exactly, the rest of the apartment looked, since he spends all his time locked up inside his room or in the bathroom. However, if it wasn’t for that, that would have been the third consecutive week that Makoto asked him out. _To the exterior world._

If he didn’t know himself, he had thought he was exited, seeing that his legs couldn’t stay still since the morning. Unfortunately, he knew himself, so he could confirm that, in reality, he was absolutely volatile with anxiety. Standing beside a little fishbowl close to the front entrance, he was feeling like he had too much oxygen in his body, soon, starting for the points of his fingers, he was going to explode and his remains would float on the air until getting to the stratosphere. The perfect disappearance.

“I´ve got them! Makoto came back to his side with two tickets with a pattern of bubbles on them, a radiant smile extending on his face. They were surrounded of kids and opaque blue light; in Haru´s humble opinion, Makoto´s smile beat the ones of the children. It makes him want to smile too.

“Don’t get lost,” he said on an effort of good humor while he waits in line.

Makoto was _literally_ jumping over his heels. “Don’t worry, “He answered, his expression didn’t lose a bit of happiness, and then he interlocks his pinky finger with Haruka´s without looking at his direction.

Which was fine. Haru wouldn’t like to look at his face, either. He had the suspicion that himself was turning into a tomato from the neck up. That was sad, actually. He doesn’t like tomato.

“Do we have a plan, to walk around the place?” He asked to keep himself busy while their tickets were checked. Children screamed all around them and parents laughed to motivate their curiosity. The illumination was so bad that Haruka was starting to worry that Makoto would crush a kid by mistake and annihilate them on the process; the parents would be relentless.

“If you don’t mind, I think it would be good to improvise a little.” Makoto walked at the same rhythm that Haru, never pulling him or imposing a specific path, but his eyes went side to side, gazing the walls covered og tanks trying to admire all the details.

On an incredible act of compassion, Haruka walked slowly. “I think we should” and stopped to let a girl full of energy cross in front of them, “wait and see where everybody is going, and then go to a different direction”

They pass by a tank filled with small tropical fish. Haruka remembered wanting one of those as a kid; now he thinks they look like Doritos.

“Angel fish,” Makoto mumble, mesmerized. Haru looked at him with surprise before turning to the other side, making a single laugh. When he returned his attention to the barista, he was looking at him like he had witnessed a miracle.

 _Sure it is_ , Haruka knows that his laugh is pretty stupid. He has luck that there are dozens of kids making even weirder sounds. They keep walking, first looking at the tanks on one side of the corridor, and then looking at the ones on the other side, both of them distracted with the fluorescent fishes. When they finished inspecting that zone, most of the people were gone.

Hearing voices coming from the opposite side, they decided to go to the saltwater area. “Oh! I´ve seen those,” Makoto commented, guiding Haru to a tank filled with small koi fishes. “I think I had some of those as a kid.”

Haruka tried to imagine a small version of Makoto doing, well, what he was doing in the moment: observing the bicolor fish with stars on his eyes. But, he had to admit, those fish called a lot of attention. Probably because the lighting on the tank.

“What do you want to see, Haru?” Makoto asked, placing his finger lightly to see if any fish got closer.

Haruka had to think for a moment. “Anything is fine,” he announced with no much interest.

Makoto smiled and put more pressure against the glass. Haruka opened his mouth to left out some of the oxygen from his system. “I want to see the dolphins.”

 _Really?_ he almost asked (he doesn’t understand why so many people liked dolphins; in his opinion, the were overrated; even if he tried he didn’t find what was attractive about them) but when he turned back, Makoto was smiling at him, after finishing admiring the fishes, and the question perish on the tip of hos tongue. “I think they are over there…,” he looked over Makoto´s shoulder to the signals and posters of the new section.

They reencounter with the kid’s herd on the new corridor, where the dolphins and other huge creatures could be seen, and Haruka felt his life just a little in danger. Makoto took his hand firmly while they walk through the crowd –just to stop at the end of the hallway and sit down beside a preschool group, with the intention of listening what the teacher had to say about the sharks and orcas and dolphins.

“Are you sure we can?” Haruka questioned cautiously while Makoto made himself comfortable on the floor, calling the attention of some kids with the rabbits sewed in a patter on his cardigan.

“Yes, don’t worry” he whispers in answer, and made Haru listen to the teacher too.

It was relaxing and fun and Haruka didn’t have time to worry about how ridiculous they looked, sitting on a floor of a museum. Also, in short time they stopped being the only ones.

When the people started to separate, they both stand up to watch trough the tanks.

Surprisingly, he liked to watch the dolphins, with their huge tanks and various sets of lights, and Makoto went back to jump on his heels for a while. Haruka observed them until his neck hurt or until Makoto changed his attention to other dolphin.

He had never shown much interest on the dolphins, but, watching Makoto, he understood why that many people liked them; they look elegant, ethereal, submerged on a infinity of clear water. Like they were out of this world.

But perhaps the best was they happy they made Makoto. If they could fill those green eyes of astonishment and happiness, surely they had to be extraordinary.

Maybe it was just for that childish reason that he decided that, _well,_ dolphins were a good candidate to be his favorite animals.

When they end up the whole route, five hours had passes –Haru had to check his clock twice.

“Are you hungry?” Makoto asked him when they left the aquarium.

To be honest, he was starving; but, at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin the day with his fear of eating in public, so he denied it.

“And what about having something to drink?” Whit that, Haruka was more comfortable. “It has to be a place near here,” the taller meditate in front of the blue sky, clear and cold. His hand involuntarily, search Haruka´s. He didn’t do nothing to stop the other from holding it.

But he just took it for a moment; Makoto gave him a gentle squeeze and let go.

With the cold breeze, there wasn’t any motive why Haruka would feel like he was evaporating, but it seems to be that his body didn’t care about the laws of nature. “Did you make peace with KitKat?” he tried to calm himself using only words.

“Ah,” he made a laugh, the sound contrasting against the horrible weather. “Almost. I still need to bring her fish. But…” he pouted, probably because they had seen all of those fish from the aquarium in front of their eyes.

Haruka frowned, experimenting the same feeling. “Maybe later,” he offered.

“Maybe later,” Makoto accepted, putting a hand on his nape.

…

Finally, after moths carrying hundreds of coffees through two or more floors, of going up and downstairs, and crushing Samezuka´s contracts, Future Fish told Haruka that they didn’t needed him until after New Year. Whit just a few classes left before winter vacations, Haruka Nanase wasn’t sure of what to do with his life.

He was so used to accommodate assignments and projects from school in every free minute, that now a whole free afternoon seemed like improve vacations. His sleep schedule had gotten better, at least. Cherish the little blessings.

One afternoon, still using pajamas, he was trying to make coffee in the kitchen, something that he never had tried before. After taking a couple of careful sips, he remembered exactly why.  The only thing that saved him of finishing his cup was an angry call coming from Rin. And, even if he didn’t understand fully if he was angry with him or with the world in general, he supposed that both were usually intertwined, so he listened to him and wrote on a _post-it_ the plane number and the hour when he was going to come for his Christmas visit.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked after finishing an eternal speech about a dude on his swimming team.

Haruka was still waiting for his coffee from hell to cool- so he doesn’t feel so guilty about towing it down the drain. ”….what are you talking about?”

“Is been half an hour and you haven’t done any of your stupid zombie moans. Are you paying attention to me?” he sounded irritated, but not for that not expecting an answer.

“Uh… yes? You were talking about someone on relay practice,” he spilled the coffee on the drain. He could still feel the bitterness on his tongue, unpleasant but evoking memories of other variants that he had the honor to try.

“Yes, I don’t know why they are still matching with idiots. I thought I had escaped that vicious circle when I got rid of you,” Rin snort.

He searched his pockets looking for his keys. _Is not like I made you lose any race_ , his mind answered. He had the good judgement of not speaking that in loud voice.

 “My most sincere condolences,” he mumbled instead; he noticed that his shoes were besides the front door and walked to his room.

“What did you say?” Rin used that special tome of his, the one that means that you are dead.

“Nothing”, Haruka said after a little sigh, sitting on his bed. “So, I’m going to tell my parents that you are going to visit.” As much as they liked to ignore Haru, his mom –and even his dad- seemed to adore Rin, for a strange reason. _For a strange reason, sure_ , he told to himself.

From the speaker, Rin lowered his voice. “Are you really going to leave me hanging?”

He looked at the clothes he had gathered under his free arm; he didn’t remember searched for them. “Uh, yeah. I’m going out.” Such words had never before left his mouth.

“Going out? _You?_ ” Rin pressured, scandalized. “Where?”

“Er…,” he saw the night though his window. “I’m going for coffee.”

….

There was a line of medium longitude when Haru arrived to the store at an unusual time. Baristas went from here to there – all of this pretty intimidating, but the line was moving quickly; he could handle it. When evidently he reached the bar, Makoto needed a few seconds to recognize him, but then he smiled like someone had told min that they were going to cover all of his college expenses. But maybe that was Haruka projecting his desires.

“What a short vacation, are you here on a secret mission? Coffee or tea?” He extended a hand to take Haru´s coupon.

“Coffee. And no,” he gave him the small card unwillingly, his eyes going from side to side, worried that someone was going to comment about the illegal quantity of coupons that Makoto keep giving to him. “I came from home”

Makoto moved to the coffee machines, letting someone else in charge of taking his position as a cashier, and Haruka followed him. “You should be careful, I´ve heard tonight is going to snow.” He made visual contact, his expression turning into one more affective. “But thank you for coming to see me.”

Haruka bite his lips against the sudden heat extending on his face. “Do you have a way to go back home?” Leaving the whipped cream dispenser, his green eyes looked at him inquisitively. “I- I mean, in case it snows…”

“Yes, there is no problem,” he put the cup of… _something_ at his reach, to later snap his fingers. “Ah! Before I forget, I wanted to ask you if you want to go to the Planetarium his week.”

He took the china carefully, observing with curiosity the foamy surface. “We can. The next week I have to finish some… _projects,_ ” he said with a shiver, that Makoto answered with a compassionate look, even when they moved to walk in another order.

“Good luck with that,” he expressed at the end. “After we can choose the hour, after I finish my shift.”

And so, Haruka, nodded and bring his cup to a table miraculously empty. For a moment, he felt so proud of his effort on the social ambit that he almost sent a message to Rin, to keep him updated about his personal development. That was stopped just because his nerves where still there, even if he took his winter vitamins. But it was still a tempting idea.

The first snow of the year started on the way home.

…

It was good that the Planetarium was quiet, because it was Friday and Haruka had been submitted to a lot, _a lot_ of classes and lectures, and noisy symphonic music that day. Not mentioning that he hadn’t got the correct seven hours of sleep days ago-  he didn’t know why, since apparently the stress induced because exams wasn’t an acceptable excuse- and just the silence has starting to make him fall asleep.

Sitting and looking at billions of star on the roof, Haruka felt that he could be already sleeping. If it wasn´t for that, from time to time, Makoto whispered something about this or that star- _and how is that he knows so much about constellations? –_ Haru would had forgotten completely about the real word.

The astronomy museum extended all over the dome. They travel from one room to the other, unconsciously trying to be as quiet as possible. When they went to a hallway with planets hanging over the, and hige windows to look to the bright and cold exterior word, Haru´s eyes landed on Makoto; he smiled, realizing that he was wearing a black sweater with pale star decorating it.

“You match with the place,” he announces spontaneously, and Makoto topped looking at Venus.

It was, in Haru´s opinion, a relatively inoffensive commentary, but the taller keep looking at him for a long time, his eyes inspecting all of his face before speaking. “You have dimples,” he informed, like it was something important.

Haruka looked to the side. “What?” _Is not like I haven’t smiled before_ , his brain started to complain.

_Right?_

Makoto didn’t give him an answer. Instead, he touches his arm and direct his attention to the other

room. “Telescopes?”

it looked like another room with little light, which probably, will hinder the visual contact, so Haru accepter. “Telescopes”

…

“What do you call a cow with no legs?” Makoto asked after, when they stopped in museum´s coffee shop for a late dinner. Five hours of continue classes wasn’t easy even with a full tummy, and Haru didn’t remember when he had his last meal.

He observed him, waiting.

“Ground beef” Haru´s expression must have been hilarious, because Makoto started laughing when he saw him. “Okay, I’m going to say another. Let me think…”

He put his hand on his chin, with his browns frowning in concentration; that was enough to make Haru stop eating for a moment.

“Why… is an archaeologist sad about his job?”

“It has something to do with Indiana Jones?” Haruka tried.

“Because his career is in ruins,” He smiled, charmed by Haru´s incredulous laugh. After some bites to his sandwich, he continued with his crusade. “Why elephants don’t play with computers?”

Haruka, that was going to take another bite; out his food down. He decided lo plat his game. “Why?”

“Because they are afraid of the mouse.”

Haru´s shoulders were shaking. It was ridiculous; he was laughing more for the reality of Makoto trying to tell those jokes that the jokes themselves. “Did you get those on the internet?” he tried to articulate when his breathing normalized.

There was a gesture of proud happiness on Makoto´s face. “Maybe” he said.

Haruka looked up. He was still smiling, and his cheeks hurt, but there was a pleasing sensation on his chest. It was pleasant, being able to look at somebody at the eyes and don’t feel the immediate sensation of looking at the other side. He asked himself for how long that comfortable sensation will last.

Feeling good at that moment, Haru inclined to the front, supporting himself on his arms. “What is the world´s oldest animal?”

The concept of exited patience could be illustrated for Makoto at his moment. Haruka sitting correctly again, taking his sandwich in his hand as a protection.

“The zebra, because is in black and white.” Months ago, he would had died of embarrassment with just thinking of that joke in public, now look at him.

It was worth it, because Makoto was laughing like a high school student, reassuring Haru that, of the two of them, he had better sense of humor. But again, _laughing like a damn high school student._ In a moment of extreme bravery, Haruka kept eating, swallowing all the anxiety of eating in public along with the bread, and didn’t stop until both of them had finished their dinners.

“Are you tired?” Makoto asked when let left the restaurant and started to go upstairs back to the museum.

“I’m fine,” he said it seriously, but he was sure that that night he was going to have his first deep sleep in weeks.

They arrived to the first flop and Makoto pulled Haru´s sleeve to guide him to the left. They walked together, his hands were close enough to brush from time to time, and it was a mutual election when they hold hands.

“I was hoping to stay in the Planetarium a little more,” Makoto confessed after that the silence stole all the heavy feelings floating on the air.

Haruka nodded to himself. “I would like to.”

He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand. “You have a beautiful smile, you know, Haru?” Makoto said slowly, without provocation. Haruka looked at him with surprise, his breath stuck on his throat.

However, when Makoto catch his gaze and gave him a comforting simile, he couldn’t avoid smiling too.


	5. Cats and Apartments

When the town was finally cover with a white sheet, Haruka was living in a short time between the two most stressing exams of his life –up until now, at least. _Just one more and I will be free,_ was the mantra he repeated while avoiding wet spots on the road. A few days more and vacations began, and then he was going to be able to focus all of his attention in preparing the apartment to Rin´s arriving.

It was good to be busy, that he can confirm, with no time to worry about personal problems. However, if he was going to be tormented because college and his daily life, he would rather fall dead. He was walking home from college when he saw a poster announcing one more of those Christmas events. He would have kept walking if it wasn’t for one of his mental disturbances.

 _What does musical doxes had to do with Christmas?_ He asked himself, writing the date and hour on his cellphone. It was sure to say he had lost his mind after starting to collect ideas for dates on his head. _Dates,_ he thought with irritation. Recently that had been one of his favorite themes.

He wished he would say that he got an anxiety attack about this. He would feel better if he could have said _Oh, it was a big impact, mi world turned upside down and, suddenly, a big skull without eyes was looking at me from a red sea of dead._ It would be good if he could blame other for his behavior. _the swamp spirits possessed me and filled my head with those satanic things called dates._ But, of course, neither of those were the cause.

One second he was in class, listening and taking notes, and, at the next, a small idea, shiny and _with no relation at all with the theme,_ attack him from nowhere; that was an adequate summary about his recent academic performance. It would be perfectly okay to feel panic. _Well, obviously,_ was the boring reaction of his brain, without a single sign of panic. _I’m glad we clarified it._  Maybe he had known it all this time.

But knowing that he had a c _rush_ wasn’t the same thing as knowing how to deal with one, obviously.

Haruka couldn’t repress a memory from his childhood, from when Rin hit his mouth against his, declaring it their first kiss. At the beginning, Haru thought that it was just a new way of hitting him; he was tempted to comment that opinion, but it wasn’t like he could win on an argument against him. So, _alright,_ Rin had hit him with his first and only kiss, on high school.

Haruka couldn’t say that he felt something else besides teeth pain and a cut on his lip – courtesy of Rin´s sharp shark fangs – but what did he know about kisses?

Even so, he had liked Rin, for a while, on a weird and twisted way. He had also liked Kisumi, for like two hours, and Kisumi didn’t care at all. That how _crushes_ are supposed to work, at least in his life. But _now,_ with Makoto, it was different. Who knows.

After a few more tries of self-inducing himself on a panic state – _and when I haven’t been able to do that? –_ that weren’t successful, Haruka decided that he didn’t care. If the panic traveled to his guts, and made him hide on his bed for weeks, it was okay, he was almost on vacations.  But, at least for now, he couldn’t pretend to be worried or surprised about the fact that he liked someone. It seemed, in some way, unavoidable. Like he knew it from a long time ago.

Frowning again in front of the poster (even if he had half of his face on his grandma´s blue scarf), he turned back and continued his walk on the way home. He was going to have time to avoiding the theme after stopping feeling pain from carrying a trestle the size of his torso.

…

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_12:33 AM_

_Hi Haru! (*^^*)_

_12:34 AM_

_Can you search that Batch duet in G major please?_

Haruka had survived the final exams, but he was convinced that he had left half of his soul at the university. He was thrown into his bed when he received the text, and even if he liked the idea he couldn’t stand up to move to his laptop on his desk.

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_12:37 AM_

_We had said that Bach is too hard…_

He tried and he couldn’t do it. What else he could do? He arrived home after a long session painting on Geidai´s study, and went into his room to clean it a little before that his mom would obliged him to do it. He threw out bottles and organized his books for five minutes, and the he fell in bed, resting on celestial silence until his phone buzzed. Or, well, until his mom arrived home, before that. Why was she at home so early? It was just midday.

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_12:40 AM_

_No, I think we could do it._

_12:40 AM_

_I can print the music sheets and modified them a little if you want_ (ﾉﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

Haruka squinted at the screen, finally raising his head from the pillow.

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_12:42 AM_

_Do you have so much free time?_

He answered immediately, practically confirming his suspicions.

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_12:42 AM_

_…maybe_

_12:44 AM_

_But actually not really. KitKat was helping me to decorate the house and the Christmas three, but it’s harder than we imagined. So now we are sitting avoiding our responsibilities._

He couldn´t blame him, Haruka´s face started the long process of falling down back to the pillow, where it stayed until getting over the image that Makoto had projected on his mind. Some things where too much for his mental health.

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_12:47 AM_

_Do you need help?_

Silence was his answer. Those where the longest five minutes of his life, waiting for Makoto to answer, and Haruka felt the panic that he hadn’t felt those three last days going up his throat. _Was that too bold?_ Harmlessly, his phone buzzed on his hand.

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_12:52 AM_

_Ahh just if you have time_

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_12:53 AM_

_Yes, there is no problem._

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_12:54 AM_

_Thank you Haru! I’ll send you the direction right away~_

_…_

And that was how, 40 minutes later, Haruka encountered himself using _Google Maps_ to end up in front of an apartment complex with twelve floors. The snow had stopped, but the temperature was still horribly low; his face was freezing, his legs were frozen, he couldn’t felt his toes and his hands were ready to fall down. He was holding a small that he bought on a small bakery. He would felt bad coming with empty hands; he even brought a cat food box, just to be sure. He asked himself if Makoto really lived alone. It sounded like he did.

He took the elevator to the six floor and found the door on his first try. He was still cold, and now his body also was hurting. Makoto opened the door and the first thing he felt was a heat wave with vanilla and baked apples smell. After, he heard Tchaikovsky on the background.

“Welcome” Makoto take a few steps back to let Haruka in, and closed the door behind him. Everything was _warm_ , but probably that was because his dangerous body temperature. Carefully, he pressed the box on Makoto´s hands. “Hm? Ah, thank you,” he made space so Haru was able to take of his layers of clothing. “Sorry for making you come,” Makoto said, like he was the one that insisted on Haruka going there. “Have you eaten? I´m not good at cooking, but we can order something, if you are hungry. Oh, did you finish your exams? Do you have any more classes?”

Haruka untangled his scarf, letting Makoto finish his maternal lecture before answering. “I finished this morning,” he said, placing the scarf beside his jacket and taking out his boots. He took a couple of careful steps over the wooden floor after arriving on the soft orange carpet – way better for his cold feet.

“You must be tired,” Makoto looked at him worried, letting the box on the table and crossing the distance between them. He brushed the snow remains from Haru´s head and pointed to a grey sofa. “Sit down. I’m going to bring you something to drink.”

Without nothing else to do, Haruka obey. It wasn’t until he was sitting that he could look at the rest of the apartment. It was a single room, to tell the truth, and way smaller than what he imagined. It seemed to be divided in two, on one side was the sofa, a bed covered with boxes and wrapping paper, and a Christmas tree relatively big; and on the other side, a kitchen, followed by lot of bookcases of different shapes, sizes and colors, making the room look full and alive. It looked pretty chaotic, but it had a good air, and Haruka was able to breath in piece.

Makoto came back with two colorful cups and put them on the table in front of the sofa. “I rushed it a little, but it should be okay” his hair looked messier than normal and, for the first time he was wearing a simple long sleeved shirt, that was pale yellow and didn’t have any weird patterns. Haruka asked himself were did he put his sweaters.

When he put the cup on his lips and taste the drink, he decided that all that he had been through until now was worth it. “It tastes _good_ ,” he exhaled, and maybe he sounded too surprised, because Makoto laugh slightly before sitting beside him.

“I’m glad. I have a jar full of that stuff and I was afraid it was going to be wasted,” he admitted, taking a sip of his own cup and resting his back on the furniture.

Haruka had do that too, but he was busy looking for cats.

“Do you want to see KitKat?” Makoto asked and stand up suddenly from the sofa, almost dropping the drink.

 _I don’t have reason to be nervous,_ Haruka reminded himself, and nodded with his head with just a tough of apprehension.

“Wait here,” he put his cup down and walk to a half closed door on the left. “She likes to sleep on the sink,” he listened Makoto explain, and then saw him come back with a huge brown cat on his arms.

She was the bigger cat Haruka had seen, and the long fur make her look almost mythic, “Ah” he said with no determination when Makoto sit on the sofa again, KitKat purring against his chest.

“She is king of scary, but my princess doesn’t even know how to use her claws,” Makoto said – Haruka wasn’t sure if he was speaking to him or to KitKat, since he was saying it with a childlike tone – patting the cat´s head. Haruka took another sip, to regain strength. “Maybe she is going to fill you with fur… I’m sorry,” he directed him a distressed look and Haruka denied with his head, leaving the cup and getting close to they.

“I´m not bothered,” he clarified, looking at KitKat intensely until she opened her huge blue eyes to look him back. “Um,” she seemed too comfortable on Makoto´s chest that Haruka didn’t know if he had to felt intimidated or jealous. Anyway, he extended a hand to touch her fur. “I’ve never seen you with cat hair,” he looked up once his petting finds a stable rhythm.

“I hide all my clothes on a drawer anti felines,” he smiled, playing with KitKat´s ears, that was massaging his shirt with her paws. “Where your classes alright?”

“I guess so” there weren’t a lot of things that weren’t right for Haruka et that moment. “But I’m glad to be on vacation”

Makoto made a sound of empathy, massaging KitKat´s paws. Haruka identified _The dance of the sugar plum fairy_ in the background. Makoto proceed to pass his hand over the cat´s back, making his fingers tough Haru´s a couple of times. Haruka was a little afraid of petting the cat´s tummy – he had heard stories that seemed from a horror story.

“So, the decorations” Makoto said, distracting Haru. He pointed with his head to the boxes on his floor and bed. “Most of them go on the tree, but I have the bad habit of putting the rest anywhere.” He sighed looking at the cat on his hands. “KitKat likes to through them like ten times a day.”

“How can I help you?” Haruka put his hand away from KitKat when he realized Makoto was petting her on automatic pilot, therefore, hugging het. Haru take his cup again to not feel out of place.

“I thing we can start with the spheres” Makoto said, seeing something over his shoulder. “Is snowing again.”

…

Makoto served them more of his glorious creation – that he admitted was, basically, eggnog without alcohol – during the afternoon, and now he was humming _Waltz of the flowers_ while he hangs silver angels from the tree´s branches. Haruka was less festive, untangling lights. KitKat had been snuggling on his feet for a while.

“Are you going to go out in vacations, Haru?” Makoto stopped to clean the table on the center, with the intention on getting on top. 

Haruka saw him putting a star on the top, his gaze going from time to time to the probably slippery table under his socks. “No, I- “he cautiously saw how Makoto went down without any harm. “I´m going to stay here. My parents – um, I live with them – are going to travel for New Year. But I, ah, a friend is going to come, so I’m staying with him.” He looked down to his feet, from where KitKat was observing him with attention. She is probably asking him the same he is asking himself: _Why did I speak so much?_

 “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like a bad way to spend vacations,” Makoto looked at the Christmas tree and turned around to take the lights from Haru´s hands. He didn’t seem uncomfortable at all.

Trying to not step on any paw, Haruka sit down on the carpet, pulling a second box to him and starting to unpack it. “And you?” He asked, taking a deer out of the box. KitKat extended a paw to the decoration, silently enough to make Haruka scream when she touched his arm.

Makoto turned around just at that moment, he saw the scene and laugh. Again. “That’s her favorite,” he explained and went back to the lights. “I´ll stay too.”

Haruka kept the deer on his lap, out of danger, and take out a soft snowman. KitKat was lovingly pushing her head against his arm, and from time to time trying to get on his legs.

“Maybe you can visit in Christmas” Makoto ended the first set of lights and start to search the rest of the boxes to see what else was left. “If you are not busy,” he added, kneeling in front of other box, and Haruka move his head to see his face, without success.

“I’m not going to be busy,” he tried to say casually, gathering more objects on his arms. “They just need me to cook and to put key to the front door, so…”

Makoto looked at him from down his fringe, and smiled. “Do you like to cook?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged. He noticed, too late, that KitKat wasn’t there, and felt something pressing against his back. “Wh-what is she doing?”

Shaking his head, Makoto stand in front of him and he inclined to take the cat from his shoulders. There it was again that laundry detergent smell, and Haruka take hold, unconsciously, of the edge of the taller one´s shirt. He let it go, surprised, when Makoto got away and hugged KitKat.

“You have to pay her more attention, Haru-chan,” Makoto said on a joking tone, giving him a smile.

On his side, Haruka just seemed to hear a part of the sentence, feeling the heat going to his cheeks. He looked down to KitKat, on an effort to hide his blush. He mumbled, on a try to get back his little dignity, “Don´t call me –chan.”

Makoto just laugh.

“Hold her for a minute” he said, still having fun, leaving KitKat on Harun´s hands before getting up. “I´m going to see how the street is- It has been snowing for hours.”

He went out to the balcony, leaving Haruka on the company of various kilos of sleeping feline. He tried to admire her, but she looked more intimidating up-close, so he tried to pet her, touching her head and back, while she tried to fuse with his sweater. Haruka assumed that she was used to that process.

“Um,” Makoto looked at him with shyness when he got back. There was snow melting on his head. Haruka assumed the worst.

…

Fortunately, he was wrong; even so, the streets didn’t look so good, and the sun was almost down. It was better to leave while he could. He believed to listen the first meow coming out of KitKat when Makoto put her down from the sofa. That improved his confidence a lot – if he had confidence on himself to begin with.

“Thank you for coming,” Makoto smiled at him, both under the door frame.

He never knew how to answer when somebody gave him thanks. Haruka shrugged, stopped doing it, and smiled too. “I had fun” he spoke before he could change his opinion.

Apparently it was a good idea, since Makoto´s expression turned even more warm, before taking a look inside, where they left the Christmas three turned on.

“KitKat had fun. She liked you. I think she was going to get sad when you go.”

Haruka left out a small laugh, and Makoto looked back at him. “I will come back, then,” he answered, curiously, without breath.

Makoto nodded. “Take care,” and got close to him, a little to the right; Haruka knew it was just to kiss his cheek, but his hand followed the movement and, again, they were looking at each other in the eyes, so close that the world seemed blurry. Makoto stopped, searching on his blue eyes, and Haruka wasn’t sure of what to do, but he did It anyway, putting a shaky hand on Makoto´s chin, both closing the distance between them.

They were too close; he had never been so close to anybody, and his mouth didn’t seem to be able to stay close while they kissed with careful determination. He didn’t even know that he wanted it until it happened. And maybe he was shaking with every moment, but maybe he wasn’t the only one.

Then he felt his other hand going up to feel brown hair flow between his fingers, while the other exercised a little pressure on his chin every time he was afraid of Makoto was going to separate, every time he had to calm down. He wasn’t conscious of Makoto´s hands after much later, when he felt one against his hip, and the other, caressing his cheek.

He was looking of not processing the situation until they stopped, their wet lips still brushing against each other, but not pressing against anymore. He was lucky that it was like this, stopping slowly, like they were going downhill, so they didn’t fell to the unknown. They separated carefully, observing each other all the time: just to see is one of them would run, so they can run too.

But neither of them did it. Makoto bite his lip, act that Haruka observed with more intensity than necessary, and he gave him a really small and uncertain smile, a blush was decorating his face. “Are you sure you don’t like to stay a bit more?”

Haruka had so much extra oxygen on his body that a whole ecosystem was forming inside him – that was the only explanation of what he was feeling inside his chest. He denied with his head and take a shaky breath that ended on a small laugh. “No, I… should go back before the snow gets worse…”

Makoto seemed to copy his laugh. “Yes, yes, I supposed you are right,” and he gave him the brightest smile on the whole universe. “Rest well, Haru.”

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Gifts and Sharks

“Your room hast changed since my last visit,” Rin felt obliged to comment 5 minutes after arriving.

 _I still live here, why would it change at all?_ Haruka thought, looking him throw his suitcase before taking the bed.

“There is a futon just beside, you know?” he pouted, because it was part of the tradition.

Rin pretended to now hear him. He was too busy looking the books and music sheets over the “bureau” – a small center table that Haru stole from the living room. “Something interesting has happened since then?”

Haruka looked at him with a gaze that could kill small creatures. He blinked before hurting himself and adopt his characteristic expression of quiet reluctance. “No,” he answered, closing the door without caring.

“I thought so,” Rin gave up too easily and Haruka felt strangely unsatisfied with that reaction.

Has bed wasn’t a big deal, it occupied the right side of his room. With the two windows the room offered, it has placed on the darkest corner. Haruka didn’t had a lot of belonging; mostly, including a lot of his clothes, were brought by his mother. The things that undoubtedly belonged to him, were the immense quantity of brushes and musical theory books, along with other materials for college that he had accumulated on bookcases and drawers and any other empty surface. Haruka wasn’t sure of what that mess would imply, on relation with his personality.

“So,” Rin dragged, stretching over the bed while Haruka sit down on the humble desktop chair, drawing something that looked suspiciously like some cat named in honor of chocolate.

He didn’t continue speaking, so Haruka stopped scribbling to look at him. “What?”

“I wasn’t finish,” he responded instantly, with irritation on his voice. Haru went back to the paper rolling his eyes. “Did you already bought my gif?”

Haruka frowned – a habit induced specially for Rin. “I still haven’t done my Christmas shopping…”

“Really, what are you waiting for?” he asked, lifting his head from his pillow. “Don’t ever think that I’m going to go with you,” he sits down taking the pillow on his arms and holding it as a protection. “I told Kisumi I was going with him this week.”

“Don´t worry, I didn´t ask you,” Haruka gaze at him one more time before taking his cellphone. Rin offered him a forced snort, but he decided to ignore him and rather write the message.

He had waited a couple of days, considering he had the right to do it, at least until the festive season began. This was the fourth day. He still had the picture on his cellphone, and he had also write down the information on an adhesive note that was glued to his desk, just in case.

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_16:14 PM_

_The 23th is going to be an exhibition of musical boxes, close to Odaiba._

Even if Rin still wasn’t paying attention to him – and, honestly, it was for the better – Haruka tried to reunite all of the strength he could from his presence, seeing the text and sending it.  _That wasn’t precisely an invitation,_ he thought, tightening his lips. _I should have asked him more directly._ He put the phone down and his fingers, involuntarily, started to tap over the desk. He licked his lips while waiting.

Eventually, his phone buzzed. Sideways, he could see Rin giving him a suspicious look.

  ** _From:_** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_16:21 PM_

_Really? I didn’t know! sounds fun, do you want to go?_ (^­­_^)

It was like his body was filled by a relief wave with no precedents. Maybe he didn’t let himself start to panic, buy, anyway, there was a part of his brain that wouldn’t stop worrying.

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_16:22 PM_

_Yes, 9 am sounds okay?_

_12:22 PM_

_After I have to do some Christmas shopping…_

He didn’t know if he was being too subtle or too rough. He lectured himself mentally.

**_From:_ ** _T. Makoto_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_16:23 PM_

_9 sounds good_

_16:23 PM_

_Can I go with you? I´ve been postponing it for ages_

“You are grinning like an idiot,” Rin announced, the bed complaining behind his movements when he got up.

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

**_To:_ ** _T. Makoto_

_16:23 PM_

_Sure._

Rin approached to look over his shoulder, and, on a reflex act worthy of a samurai without much talent, he sent the message and hid the phone behind his back. When the redhead tried to hold it, Haru extended his arm backwards over the desk, in a way that would make Rin sitting on top of him to reach it. An effort that, he knew, Rin wasn’t ready to give.

“You are really the weirdest person I know, Haru,” Rin frowned at him, hitting his forehead with a finger before falling down in the bed again.

…

… _9 am, what was I thinking?_ Haruka reflected, his teeth tightened in what it looked like an effort to shut his shaky mouth forever. But, on his defense, who would know that the weather was going to be so cold?

 _I knew it,_ he answered himself, looking at the hour on his clock. _I knew it and now I’m going to suffer for my sins,_ he tried to hide his face on his scarf but it was, too, cold and wet. It haven´t snowed in two days, but with that temperature, anyone would have thought there was snowing five minutes ago.

There was a hole on his stomach that made him wanted to curl into a fetal position. He felt how his whole body was shaking, whether it was for the emotion swirl inside him, or for the cold claw of premature dead that was sinking on his heart. He come to a conclusion, that, he was nervous; that was the only explanation. But it was hard to identify a single feeling when he was incapable of staying still not even to breathe deeply.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad. After all, if the hypothermia got him before Makoto arrived, he would be out of a potentially embarrassing situation. For the first time, he was almost grateful of his social ineptitude, since it maybe would hide the worst of himself.

On a repressed intern analysis of his own thoughts, he decided that _feeling-uncomfortable-while-ordering-a-pizza_ wasn’t different, at first sight, of _feeling-uncomfortable-while-trying-to-ignore-the-fact-that-they-kissed;_ that was a relieve. Even so, Haruka passed the 20 minutes, after getting home that night, remembering the encounter while his hands construct paper cranes aggressively.

He truly didn’t know what to make out of everything.

“I am _really_ sorry Haru.” When Makoto arrived, the sun didn’t shine on the sky, and the snow didn’t melt under his feet to make space to the flowers grew with his steps.

It was pretty anticlimactic, _normal,_ to be honest. Makoto looked breathless, with a little sweat on his forehead, and too colorful. Two of those characteristics where a consequence of traveling on the train; the other was, simply, Makoto being Makoto.

“You came here early,” he panted, trying to regulate his breathing. Haruka didn’t offered him an answer; he felt slightly betrayed, being that he was the one that passed the last fifteen minutes mentally writing his testament. “We need to get better at the thing of being on time,” he looked at his cellphone and laughed, “It´s still before 9.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Haruka moved his hands in from of him to avoid them going numb. “I thought it will be more traffic,” said without mentioning that he was awake since 6 at the morning, that he made three different dishes for breakfast, and that he tried to clean the bathtub before giving up and leave home too early.

“Same. Who could tell that public transportation was so effective?” Makoto joked, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. How are you?”

Misery residues crawled to his chest when Haruka looked up. “I’m okay,” he expressed, awkwardly aware of that he maybe was stooping. “Can we go inside?” he took the initiative, because he was starting to not feel his legs.

“Sure, sorry,” the voice of the taller one shake a little, imitating the rest of his body. Giving a few steps, Haruka advert that he had let one of his hands free, so Makoto can take it. First thought he wouldn´t do it, because the wind was too strong and it will tear their hands away, _obviously,_ but his arguments proved to be invalid when he felt a palm take his. “Don´t get lost,” he said, remembering that moment in the aquarium.

Haruka made a pout in reproach, but he didn’t think it made so much difference. “I won’t.”

…

When he saw the word _exhibition_ he was expecting to see maybe six tables, where elderly persons could show their antique musical boxes. This exceeded all his expectations. From what he could see, there was at least two rows, dozens of tables on each side.  Truth, there was also a Christmas fair on the corridors, but, even so, the amount of musical boxes was impressive.

He squeezed Makoto´s hand; now he wasn’t so sure about not getting lost. “Where we start?” the taller asked, looking positively radiant after seeing the huge room full of people and weirdly colored objects.

“Are you looking for something special?” Haru eventually asked when he didn’t come up with another idea.

Makoto put a hand on his chin, with a thoughtful expression on his face. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know; I thought I would know it when I saw it… Do you thing they would have some that plays _The_ _Ode to Joy_?”

Haruka looked at the closest tables. It was a fearsome place with a lot of people with way more Holiday Spirit than him. He didn’t even believe that Christmas had a reason to be. “Maybe,” he said, since he didn’t have any better answer, and so, they got into the crowd and visit more or less systematically, from one table to the next.

It didn’t take too long before Haruka realized was going to be a _very long_ day for him. That miraculous epiphany came, probably, around the third time Makoto stopped to talk with the elderly man that managed the stores. They seemed to get along with the elderlies. _Surely because they use the same kind of clothes,_ his mind answered, looking the sweaters that they wear. On Makoto´s defense, at least his elaborated winter pattern was knitted over a deep blue background.

However, he wasn’t able to stay on the same table without feeling the imminent horror of that maybe someone was going to speak to him, too. “I´m going to look over there,” Haruka said before walking away, hoping to maintain his promise of _not_ get lost.

He tried to go cautiously as possible, trying not to feel like he was parting the ocean every time he had to go through someone´s path. He stopped in front of a row of small musical boxes, his fingers playing with the scarf, and scanned the titles. He didn’t know what to buy, and he also didn’t have a lot of money, even after that Fish decided to give him a small salary just before vacation. Haruka was still perplexed about that.

It while he was thinking about what to get from Rin (The most important thing: it had to be with the perfect gift if he didn’t want to be the victim of spiteful looks), that he watched a small purple music box. So, _maybe,_ he was looking for something in particular. His eyes widened a little and he got close, almost impressed with the thought that that thing existed inside the universe. The aspect that made that thing special, is that it played _The ode of Joy._

His first instinct was calling Makoto, but he was able to control himself. Frowning, Haruka covered his mouth with his scarf. He mentally noticed that it seemed to be a very fortunate coincidence, that wasn’t going to happen again; and there were just a few days left before Christmas. The only problem was – he looked suspiciously at the person at the table – that he was going to need to speak.

“Um,” he commented smartly, putting his scarf down again. “I want to buy this one, please,” he pointed with precise caution and looked around him while the seller wrapped it on a paper bag. He still wasn´t been discovered. “Thank you,” he said and guiltily put it on his messenger bag, covering it with all the trash he had there (A bunch of paper handkerchiefs and several bottles of pills) to be sure it wasn’t visible.

 _One less,_ Haruka did a sight. When he founded Makoto, he was inspecting a variety of bells. Haru stepped beside him.

“Did you find something interesting?” Makoto asked while he stacked bells on his palm.

“Not really. I mean, some of them looked good, but, ah, you know… and, that,” He had to remember not overestimate his social abilities from now on; he obviously lacked of them. “What are those for?”

The bells now sounded from the inside of the backpack. “There are for KitKat. I was thinking she would like one, but I can’t choose.”

Haruka imagined KitKat using a little bell around her neck while she wondered around the apartment; surely, that would make Makoto become Peter Pan¿. Personally, he felt more like the Captain Hook. After that he thought about Makoto trying to guess what bell would she like more, and there it was the ecosystem on his stomach, again, making him feel all shaky and gull of… something. _He´s so cute,_ he allowed his brain to say, and offered a doubtful smile to Makoto.

“I was thinking,” Makoto mentioned, a couple of hallways ahead. Haruka made a questioning sound, playing with a snow globe on his hands. “About music. Have you ever tried to sing, Haru?”

The snow globe was put on his place, and Haruka gazed at him. Makoto had the carefulness or putting his most innocent smile. “I refuse to give you that information.”

He didn’t understood why Makoto started laughing so openly.

…

Usually, one didn’t have a lot of options when speaking of postcards, especially when you were going to send them, to people who already had visited a big part of the city. Therefore, Haruka was thankful for the festivities and how they bring out more possibilities.

He received a mail the day before, saying, on a half-sorry, half-rushed tone, that Rei and Nagisa had decided to travel to the mountains for vacations, so they wouldn’t be going to be able to visit him that year. Haru had no problem with that, or at least that was what he wrote as an answer. On one side, he had a way bigger than usual portion of human interaction, with Rin staying at his home and Makoto being himself, and, frankly, he was a bit tired. _Or maybe too tired._ Haruka was exhausted.

But on the other side, the change of planed made him a bit nervous; he could already see how distant they would become in the future.

So, he decided to prevent that outcome on the most passive way, to not use what little energy he had left. That’s why, al that moment, he was looking holyday postcards. And even if he didn’t want to admit it, he was paying more attention to the ones with prewritten messages.

“Almost?” he heard suddenly, and Haru felt that he had all the right to jump from the scare. In reality, he just blinked, vaguely surprised.

They were outside a mall in Odaiba, and there was still as cold as in the morning, although the crowd protected them from the wind. Of course, Haruka wasn’t sure is being in the presence of so many people were worth it.

Makoto was doing a good job pretending to be calm, even when Haruka had founded him seeing at the crowd subtly from time to time. For now, however, he looked calmly, since he found a bench close to the street stall that Haru was exploring, and also since, naturally, he got free hot chocolate for the two of them on the Christmas fair. Haruka wished being able to choose two postcards and end up with that, so he could take his hot chocolate before it got cold.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so…,” He answered, with a pout, and continued searching through the postcards. “Sorry, I didn’t believe I was going to take so much time.”

Makoto didn’t stop at the middle of his sip to answer against him, but he gave him a graceful look from over the cup. Those were the small things, Haruka noticed, that made him look more like a real person. Against the popular opinion, he didn’t like to have his mental disturbance constantly spoiled.

“There is no problem, take your time,” Makoto finally vocalized his opining, putting the paper cup down.

Haruka hit his fingers against his scarf a couple of times. “No, I think these ones are good,” and took two slightly terrifying postcards, with no message on them, and bring them to the cashier.

…

“Alright, so I have…. Almost everything. I´m just missing one.” It was amazing that Makoto would handle his life with that facility – even with his arms full of colorful bags.

Haruka considered it with a hand on his chin, the two sitting on a vacan bench. Outside. In the snow.

 _Those are a lot of sweaters,_ he thought. “I didn’t think your family was so big,” he say without thinking, and, just by pure willpower, resist the urge to slap himself. _The normal humans have friends too, he remembered._

Makoto laugh slightly. “Oh, no, sure it is. It’s just that, lately, they don’t like me very much. But sometimes they call, so I guess sending gifts would be a good idea?”

They were error screens blinking inside Haruka´s brain. _How can they not adore you?_ He didn’t even know what word of that question he wanted to emphasize more. He searched for a more comfortable position on his hand and pretend disinterest. “If you say so…”

Makoto looked away from the future gifts and inclined a little bit more towards Haru´s side. “What about you?” His tome reminded him of the long hours at the aquarium, of exciting words and a hand holding his. He buried his face on his scarf.

“One more, I think… and I would be finished.” Theoretically, mentally, and physically.

It wasn’t like Haruka had a lot gifts to buy, anyways. He decided a long time ago that instead of buying gifts to his parents, he would cook the Christmas dinner. After, he bought little things for some of his cousins, that usually made and effort to wish him merry Christmas.

And that left just Rei, Nagisa, Kisumi and Rin, on his gift list. He considered sending a box of chocolates to Kisumi, even if he hadn’t seen him since graduation – Rin made an effort to keep them in contact, he being the only actual connection between them, apparently, Kisumi asks frequently for him. Rin insisted that he had to act like a half decent human and send him at least a little gift, for Christmas.

Therefore, his bigger problem was knowing what he could get for Rin: the only gift that _had_ to be relatively awesome if he wouldn’t want to end up on bad terms.

Although, _awesome –_ Haruka frowned looking at the bench – maybe wasn’t the right word. He was really not good at these things. Also, the fact that Makoto seemed to take out a person of his list every time he entered a store didn’t help too much to his mental state. He just ended up wishing to have better luck on the next stores.

He didn’t realize he was biting his slightly wet and somehow frozen scarf until Makoto turned to see him and frowned. _Typical,_ Haruka looked away and put the fabric away from his mouth. _What a way to impress someone._ I should write a book.

Can I give you something?” He heard him asking. Looking back at the taller, the first thing that his mind thought was _Pills? A chewing toy for a dog?_ but Makoto looked pretty serious about the theme, so he shrugged. “Okay, um…,” an uncertain small appeared on Makoto´s face while he opened his backpack. “I’m not sure if you would like this or not, but I bought this for you,” and offered the… the _thing_ to Haruka.

On any other circumstance, Haruka wouldn’t have believed possible finding not just an almost identical copy to his grandmother´s scarf, also one that has more than 300 more color varieties. However, this was Makoto, that would probably have a manatee hat waiting for him on his closet.

“Ah…,” He dared to move and turn the thing after looking at it for a while. His hands were freezing, but they were functional enough to tell him that the material was way softer that the one actually on his neck. Probably because, unlike his grandma´s, that one didn’t had 50 years of antiquity. “Thank you, but, why…?”

“I saw it every day going to work, on the shop-window of a clothing store, and I thought, why not?” Makoto answer with ease. Haruka, without thinking, started to squeeze the scarf.

 _Days ago I thought you weren’t going to speak to me ever again, and here you are, buying me a gift,_ he mumbled on his mind, exhausted. That was practically the summary of his relationship with the barista. Haruka tried to think of an argument, but he gave up prematurely.

“Christmas gift?” He finally asked out loud, without knowing exactly what to do with his hands.

“Sure,” Makoto smiled, turning into a sun inside of the frantic avenue. “Now” and his smile turned into a smaller and less dangerous one, taking a look at the street; Haru made a shy try of changing his old scarf for the new one. “Would you like to go for out last purchases?”

…

He should have said no. _But, in that case, I would had let my brain rot until dying while I tried to not be crushed for the crowd,_ Haruka analyzed. The store looked way smaller and harmless from the outside; on the inside, it was a wood cabin, a second home to bored grandmothers.

“I can’t believe you are making me do this,” Haruka complained in an almost childish tone – _almost-,_ letting Makoto guide him through the store.

Makoto, who mentally laughed at his words, which probed that he was _enjoying_ this, and that he did it on _purpose._ “Trust me, it not as bad as it looks.”

 _Of course it is,_ Haruka directed a dry stare to the back in front of him, and then they stopped on a corner, just below the wooden staircase. If this ended up being successful, Rin was going to be on debt his whole life.

“I really believe he not going to like this…” He mumbled, inspecting the different sweater hanging at his reach. It was just full instinct what made him start looking through them. Honestly. Instinct and a bit of despair.

“Anyone likes them once they need to pass their first night without a/c,” Makoto commented, like it was a life fact, and Haruka stopped to raise a box at his direction. He smiled, without even looking at Haru. “First college year, I was just finished moving.”

“Of course,” and he went back to the clothing items.

A couple of minutes later, Haruka was working on admitting that some of those sweater looked good. He was putting them on two categories, depending on if he was able to imagine Makoto using them or not; which wasn’t a very bright idea, it made It realize how low he was prepared to go just for a cute smile

Every so often, he checked to see if Makoto was close, to be sure he wasn’t going to buy the whole store while he wasn’t paying attention, But Makoto was behaving good, taking his time to choose the last gift he needed for his inconceivable family. At least the extravagant clothes helped him to keep distracted and don’t think about the undesirable things that could happen in a place as comfortable as this, with maybe a little more hot chocolate, less people, and more silence.

“Oh, this one is perfect,” Makoto, eventually, whispered excited, showing his finding to Haruka. “What do you think?”

He had no clue how the other find that kind of stud, but that sweater was pale orange color, with eyes printed on the chest and sleeves. It wasn’t something Haru would classify as perfect, but he remembered that Makoto, stores ago, was excited when he found one with a huge rhomboid at the center.

“It looks… good,” He was able to say through his teeth. His reaction seemed to please Makoto, even so.

Blue eyes captured something behind him, and started to walk in automatic. He saw it, the perfect gift, up there; he just had to reach it. With his low statue, however, that ended up being harder than anticipated.

“Do you need help?” Makoto asked, and Haru shook his head; he refused to make even more evident the size difference.

Ignoring him, Makoto extended his arm and put the sweater down, giving it to Haru with a smile. On his defense, Haru just keep pouting for the next fifteen seconds and a half.

He was really wishing Rin still got angry when been compared with sharks, he didn’t want his gift to lack irony.

…

The shopping thing ended up relatively soon. Once back in the street, Haruka observed how one or two snowflakes make uncaring efforts to get to earth, just to regret it and go back to the sky. He didn’t blame them.

“All ready?” Haruka nodded. “Good” Makoto said with satisfaction. Haruka wondered if the taller was physically capable of get tired. Then those green eyes looked at him to give him a smile, and he thought that he would give everything if Makoto has happy the rest of his life. “Do you want to do something?”

For an instant, Haruka let his guar down and he was so out of it that he wouldn’t mind going to a quiet place where they would sit together and hold hands for a while. Then, the reality got over him so heavily that it broke the windows of his soul. “Whatever you want.”

 _A talk,_ the rational part of his brain said. _A talk would be good. And what about the kiss? Does it mean that we are together? Or we pretend it never happened?_

Obviously, Haru couldn’t ask that, out of nowhere. Just the idea threw him back to the sea of nervousness where he was living that morning. He just had to wait. For the first time in his life, the possibility of a positive answer was high.

“I’m hungry,” Makoto reflected, seeing the street extended ahead. Haruka made a sound that would mean _yes, same,_ or maybe, _I think I left the stove on._ “If I prepare a quick dinner, would you consider coming home with me?”

 


	7. Curry and Invitations

_Its and universal truth that, if a single man has a good cooking, is because he wants someone else’s company_. At least, that is what was going through Haruka´s mind while the subway travelled, bringing them closer to Makoto´s apartment.

Makoto, that had been asking his favorite recipes for fifteen minutes. Makoto, that stopped in three different stores to buy the ingredients before going to the station. But overall, Makoto, who looked like Haru had made him the biggest favor in the world for accepting going home with him.

“It might be a little cold,” the same Makoto warned him, using his card to enter to the building. “Normally I turn off the heat when I go out, and later it takes a bit to be warm again. But we weren’t out for too long, right?”

 _Just for more than 4 hours,_ Haru´s mind announced. “It doesn´t matter,” he said instead, trying to eliminate the worry behind those two green eyes. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I come?”

Makoto looked at him with such an expression of disbelieve that he made Haruka feel stupid for asking. Wanting to avoid an awkward moment, Haru offered him an impotent smile. He had been getting better at smiling, nowadays.

Once inside the apartment, Haruka had to admit that Makoto was right. It was _freezing_. At the beginning he didn’t feel it, since they were coming from outside and completely covered with winter clothes, but when he took out his jacket and scarf, he was left with a thin long sleeved shirt that was fighting to not let him die of hypothermia. He left his boots carefully besides the door, while Makoto babbled apologies and went all over the place, turning the heater system on. Haruka couldn’t help noticing a pair of socks with a reindeer pattern. Reindeers and snowmen were looking at him from every inch of the house, too. He had almost forgotten.

“It shouldn’t take more than an hour,” Makoto tried to cheer him up, even if it wasn’t necessary.¿: Haru was sure he could get used to the cold in less than that. “Are you okay?” Haruka nodded, giving him another instinctive smile. Makoto frowned like a worried mother. “I´m going to prepare tea.”

Remembering that it was millions of times easier to get warm if one is moving, Haruka take a few steps until his feet were over the carpet. “Do you want me to help you?”

Makoto was already in process of putting tea boxes over the kitchen table. “No, he answered, his mind was in another place. After, he looked up and a bright idea seemed to light his eyes. “Oh. Wait a second,” and, with that, he entered the bathroom.

It wasn’t proper of him –or, at least, not while he was on someone else´s house – but Haruka take that opportunity to put water to boil. He felt weir, using the kitchen of another person, but it was definitively not the weirdest thing that he had done in his life. He was looking at the variety of tea´s Makoto had put when he heard sounds coming from the bathroom, and remembered that KitKat probably was there too.

“I found it,” Makoto went back with a notorious lack of cats, even so his hair looked a lot messier. Haruka was just about to comment that, or about KitKat´s absence, when he saw it. _Here it comes._ Makoto got closer, laughing. “You are looking at me like I had brought you the moon. Here,” He offered Haru his cargo, which turned out to be a huge grey sweater. In retrospective, he should have expected it.

As cheerful as always, Makoto turned out to the stove. “Oh, you already put the water, thank you. Now,” He went back to the table and Haruka gave him an unconvicting menacing look before putting on the sweater. “Do you like black tea?”

The answer he got was a distracted _yes,_ since Haru was busy rolling the sleeves so his hands could be remotely useful. “It smells like KitKat,” he said, at the same time Makoto was looking for cups on the kitchen.

That earned him a smile. “Don´t let her hear you. She still believes I don’t know she gets inside the clothes drawer when I´m not here.” Haruka laughed, and sited on the table, somewhat weirded out about how comfortable was the sweater. “She´s still sleeping, by the way. It’s a rebellion act until the temperature rises again.”

He couldn’t repress the smile that expanded across his face. Makoto came back with the burning teapot to fill the cups and Haru felt useful, again, holding them so he wouldn’t unintentionally spill the tea.

“But until then,” the teapot was left on the stove. “You are all mine,” Makoto pushed the blue teacup to him, giving him a look that made Haru stop breathing for a moment.

 _Oh, God, he´s going to talk about the kiss,_ was the only thing he had on his mind.

 _And wasn’t that what you wanted?_ His mind complained, and pull the cup closer, wishing the steam were enough to cover his face. Of course he was going to daunt, now that he had what he wanted.

“It’s something wrong, Haru?” His blue eyes looked at Makoto immediately and, yes, maybe he had turned pale while he was thinking, because he looked at him worriedly.

Haruka maintain his eyes over him and took a sip of tea, in something that tried to say: _look, I’m a completely functioning human, can you see?_ “Er… no?”

The worrying melted to a slight aggravation with affection tones, and Haruka felt himself shrink – he hadn’t felt that way never before. Then Makoto seemed to lose enthusiasm, his expression turning into a peaceful contemplation. That meant, that maybe, he was also tirade from the crowds in Odaiba. Haruka felt unexpected relieve when he thought about that.

They were both in silence, Haruka sitting beside that table, and Makoto leaning against the kitchen counter, until they drink almost all the tea. He wasn’t the one to judge, but Haruka believed Makoto was also searching for the best way to bring up the theme. “Um,” he heard his own voice, and he was as surprised as Makoto that he was the first to talk. “Is everything…. Alright… between us?”

 _´Is everything okay´? That really the best thing you came up with?_ He didn’t dare to look anywhere besides the bottom of his cup, like it contained all the secrets of hundreds of universes.

“Of course it is,” Makoto answered, but, apparently, even he realized how fast he said it, been that when Haruka looked at him, he found him blushing. “I- I mean… yes.” Haru was paralyzed, and it was all because the coloration on the other´s face. Makoto seemed to get energy from moving his cup, since he kept turning it between his hands. “Sorry. I´m not used to this kind of stuff.”

“I guess we could…,” And Haruka stopped, realizing that he just talked because Makoto sounded so honest, and he continued slowly. “…Just, ah.” He went silent again, seeing his empty cup. ”Go along and see what happens?” Makoto tried to complete, a little embarrassed, and Haruka nodded to the small dried leaves on his drink.

Haruka counted a few seconds and fifteen leaves. “If it seems okay to you,” he ended up saying, making eye contact-, Makoto seemed relieved and, somehow, happy. Even so, there were still red residues on the tip of his ears, but Haruka didn’t felt in position of make any commentary about that.

“Yes. We are going to be fine,” he declared, with more determination, and Haruka was happy that someone had so much confidence on him, for once.

…

It was impossible to guess what, exactly, _quick dinner_ meant. After another cup of tea (way les uncomfortable, this time), Makoto said vaguely that he was already preparing it, so Haruka decided to go along with it. Makoto decided to make green curry.

“It´s not a very Christmas dish,” Haruka said, waiting that the dozens of Christmas ornaments helped him to reinforce the irony.

Makoto didn’t even flinch. “I´ll put ginger on it,” He announced simply, cutting an onion.

That was how, half an hour later, there were they, over a pot of vegetables, looking at the rice from time to time. Haruka felt pretty good, but a bit too warm, and he was glad to be, finally at the same level as another person, even if it was something so easier as cooking. It felt good, knowing what he was doing.

“When I was a kid, I think Edvard Grieg was my favorite,” Makoto said, attending the pot with a particularly flashy movement (or so it looked to Haruka´s eyes, but he might not be the most impartial judge when it was about Makoto) from his wrist.

Haruka wait a second, listen to the music that came out of Makoto´s stereo at that moment, and identifying the notes of _The Morning_. “And now?” He asked, tasting the food after adding a pinch of pepper.

“I still like him, of course, but not I feel it’s intimidating,” He admitted, with a short laugh.

On Haruka´s humble opinion, the _intimidation_ was something that happened to other people, not to Makoto. Other persons –Read it as: Haruka. “Do you like it more than Tchaikovsky?” He asked, unconsciously rising and eyebrow.

Makoto smiled. “It might be? Tchaikovsky reminds me of my childhood. The _Nutcracker_ was one of my favorite winter songs. It still is, to be honest,” he spoke, pulling apart cilantro leaves.

Haruka looked how the green leaves fell down, from Makoto´s fingers, to the pot. “Yes, I… remember it, I liked t too.” It was so long ago that he couldn’t even remember if he saw it with his parents or with his grandma, but it was still a memory.

Some time later, everything was ready and Haru didn’t have time to determine his eating strategy before Makoto took out the strange dishes – covered with cats silhouettes, - that, for some reason, he possessed, and that effectively distracted him from his attack plan. As a revenge, Haruka decided to take all the ginger he could on his own dish.

…

Dinner passed without much inconveniences, against all expectative. Haruka asked himself how long it would take, the next time the saw each other, to get to that comfortable state. Makoto even let him helped with the dishes, even if he just limited him to dry them.

The heater finally did its job, with a little bit of help from the stove, and Haru analyzed the pros and cons of taking out Makoto´s sweater. It was – and he wasn’t going to admit this to the public- way more comfortable that he thought it will be. He considered taking out his shirt and just stay with the sweater, but that had the risk of making seem look like a _perverted stalker,_ if Makoto noticed it. So, for that time, he just rolled the sleeves to his elbows.

Shortly after finishing with the dishes, Makoto went out of the kitchen. Now, sweet hums came out of the bathroom. They contrasted a lot with the Rimsky-Korsakov that sounded in the background.

That was when Haruka´s phone buzzed, making him feel like he just woke up form a very long nap.

**_From:_ ** _M. Rin_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_15:57 PM_

_Ok, you are still not in home (a first time for everything!) and they are asking me about your whereabouts. Did you die? I’m going to pass the night with Kisumi but tell me if you want me to wait for you before going_

It was typical of Rin, and Haruka really wished not being so good to read between lines – so he would not know that Rin was worried. A soft wave of guilt covered his conscience, which he ordered to go immediately, but it wasn’t really effective.

“Did something happen?” Makoto asked, entering the room with his arms full of fluffy and sleepy KitKat. Haruka smiled at him involuntarily, before remembering what he was doing and looking back at the screen.

“No, nothing, just… a friend asked me where I was.”

“Do you have to go back home?” Makoto had a look on his eyes, like he was going to call a taxi in the next seconds, if Haruka would say _yes_. He felt a little sick thinking about leaving, and maybe as a reflex of that he started to shake his head vehemently.

“N-no, no, it´s okay. He was actually telling me he was going to go out at night, and, well…” _well what?_ He exhaled slowly.

He inhaled deeply.

There is a special kind of smile, used by people who know they are going to do something devastating, and Makoto had it added to his face. “Well,” he extended an arm, hugging KitKat against his chest. A little part of Haruka thought that, whatever was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be fair. “He have and amazing view of the city, at night,” He inclined his head looking at the balcony. “If you want to stay.”

“Er.” Haruka said, forgetting the phone on his hand.

Makoto´s smile went away until he bite his lip. “Ah.”

“Um.” Haruka continued with the same smart way, speechless. Even KitKat made and interrogation sound, while at the same time she put her blue eyes on Makoto.

Makoto made an uncertain grin. “Too soon?”

Haruka decided to think about it for a few minutes more. “No,” he concluded, at the end. “I- alright, I´ll stay.” That wasn’t exactly the plan, when he invited him to the music box exhibition, but he couldn’t say that he didn’t liked the idea at all.

“For real?” And now was Haru the one who was gazed upon from two pairs of eyes. He nodded, clenching his phone. “Okay.”

…

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_**To:** M. Rin _

_16:11 PM_

_I’m okay. I’m going to stay on a friend´s house. Say hi to Kisumi from me._

**_From:_ ** _M. Rin_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_16:11 PM_

_Is this a joke?_

**_From:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_**To:** M. Rin _

_16:12 PM_

_No. See you tomorrow._

_I will never going to see the end of this_ , Haruka thought uncaringly.

**_From:_ ** _M. Rin_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_16:12 PM_

_Ok whatever you say._

**_From:_ ** _M. Rin_

**_To:_ ** _N. Haruka_

_16:12 PM_

_Don’t do anything stupid. Take care Haru._


	8. Nights and Playlists

It was Makoto´s idea to watch cartoons for a bit, at least until the sky went dark enough to see the city lights – or until KitKat demanded her night walk. Haruka had nothing against the plan, and that how he ended up with the cat on his arms while Makoto moved the sofa and the enter table, on a way that them both feel comfortable using the laptop.

He had a sensation of lightness on his chest, that had been floating over his heart since the moment he accepted to stay. It was a constant hope. _Maybe everything is going to be okay. Maybe I´m even going to have fun,_ and that was that Haru´s mind sing, petting KitKat with long, careful strokes. She was purring so loudly that he couldn’t even listen to his own heartbeats.

“You know, when I adopted her, she was so _tiny._ Well, she still is, somehow,” Makoto told him while he was putting small colorful pillows on the sofa´s edges.

Haruka looked down at KitKat, who was looking at him like daring him to tell that she wasn’t the smallest thing he had ever seen on his life.

“I was just living here for six months when I found her on an animal control van,” Finishing, Makoto straightened and got closer to them to join the pampering party. “Nobody thought my princess was going to become so _pretty_ ,” He hummed, before looking at Haru. “You can sit down now, by the way.”

“I thought she was older,” Haruka remarked, sitting on lotus position over the sofa without dropping her; he felt somewhat proud of that achievement.

“Oh, no. She is still a girl, so you can understand the tantrums,” Makoto said from the kitchen table, where he was busy making instant hot chocolate. Haruka felt more spoiled there that in any other time on his 20 years of life. KitKat snuggle him more, proving his point.

….

In retrospective, everything went absolutely perfect, watching different episodes of cartoon that they used to watch when they were kids. For some reason, Makoto found _Shin Chan_ hilarious. On his side, Haruka, at one point, had enjoyed _Case Closed._ They had the same opinion about _Doraemon_ , both, indisputably, loved it.

“Guess who wanted to be the next David Bowman when they were ten,” Makoto said, when they started talking about space.

Haruka laughed; he couldn’t help it. “ _No,_ that’s horrible!”

“Debatable,” Makoto scolded, but he was laughing too, swinging KitKat on his legs; she had left Haru since Makoto´s hands had more experience. “It looked so _awesome_ , all that knowledge.”

“I thought you said it because you wanted the spaceship,” Haruka smiled slightly, playing with his cup of hot chocolate. “Wouldn’t it have been too lonely?”

“Ah,

There is a lot of lonely people on the world. I just took the knowledge and the fault of a corporeal manifestation as a bonus,” Makoto explained, with a smile still present on his voice. It seemed to wrap around some uncomfortable parts on Haru´s soul.

“I used to like sci-fi books, long time ago,” he said instead of enjoying the sensation. “I found the whole _A Space Odyssey_ saga on my dad´s study, and I remember I enjoyed them. They made me think on how vast the universe is, and strangely enough, that calmed me.”

It was a fun idea, since the world sometimes felt too big for Haruka, and his one felt so small. He supposed it depended on the proportion.

“Lately I haven’t tough about that, but remembering it helps me to stop worrying and it calms me a bit. We are such insignificant things…,” He stopped, with his face showing embarrassment. “I mean, been so small can make you forget about your own experience. It sounded like David didn´t have that anymore. And, I don´t know, that seemed sad.”

Makoto reflected about it, with his eyes fixed on one point in the space. “There is some kind of comfort in the abysm. It doesn’t change at all, to begin with.” He paused, while KitKat found an opportunity to stretch better on his legs. “So, the planetarium…”

“-I liked it,” Haruka said before Makoto could finish, just a bit too fast. _Yep, that covered it pretty well,_ his mind mumbled.

“It´s a relief,” Makoto sighed happily, and made an effort –really care-freely, not subtle at all, but successful- to sit closer to Haru, with cat and everything.

Haruka saw him, and hated that the first thing that came into his mind was if it was immoral to kiss someone in front of their cat. Then he started to put his efforts into deciding if he wanted to stay like this, close to each other, but without touching, or if it was better to get just a little closer and lay on Makoto´s shoulder.

 _KitKat looks comfortable, laying there,_ he found an excuse to stay still, at the end. _I don’t want to bother her,_ he continued, but, even so, he placed his hand on the space between them and wait.

It was wonderful, since Makoto just placed KitKat better on his lap, to free his hand, and gently put it over Haru´s. And that, somehow, was enough.

…

Even if Haruka was impressed with the calm that filled the place, once KitKat was awake, the apartment seemed to come back to life. Haru was having a good time, just inspecting Makoto´s bookshelf – Unexpectedly filled with 20th century literature - When KitKat jumped over the desktop chair and, from there, to the top of one of the shelves, throwing the reindeer figure to the floor deliberately. Fortunately, it didn’t break.

“Here, come down,” Haruka tried to whisper with authority, and was massively ignores. He wasn’t tall enough to take her on his arms without throwing some books in the process. “Come here…”

“She will go down when I turn on the lights,” Makoto said, hanging again the Christmas decorations on the tree that had fell because KitKat. He looked at the window and smiled. “It´s dark already. Do you want to see the city?”

Surprised, Haru follow his gaze and saw that the winter night was already covering Tokyo. It was a sudden reminder of reality, but he still felt like a lot/little time had passed since morning. The thought alone of that just a few hours alone he was freezing on Odaiba´s district streets was enough to throw him on an ocean filled with exhaustion. He tried to ignore it.

A pair of soft slippers when placed in front of him, and before Haruka understood what was going on, Makoto was already helping him to put down his sweater sleeves. Haruka would had complained if he didn’t found that act adorable. Also, Makoto looked pleased about how his sweater covered completely the palms of his hands.

Haru didn´t have anything to keep his head occupied; Makoto was using his sweater perfectly. “Aren´t you going to take KitKat out for a night walk?”

It had a bittersweet taste, speaking about KitKat every time he felt emotionally incapable. Haruka was feeling more and more like a cat person.

“We decided that we aren´t going to,” Makoto put on his own slippers and opened the balcony door.

Just after him, Haruka stepped outside and found the immediate necessity to hold onto the handrail. It wasn’t like he had a problem with heights, but that was the only place where he could but his hands. Nobody wanted to do balconies bigger than a flower pot, apparently.

Even so, the center of the city was just a few stations away, and the most important streets, with their lights and Christmas decorations, could be seen between parts of buildings lazily lighten.

“Look, out there is the shopping center,” Makoto pointed with just his eyes, his hands also holding the hand rail.

It was huge building crowned with yellow lights and Haruka, again, founded difficult to believe that he was there that morning, rotting with worry. Makoto redirect his gaze to the Central Station, where Haru went sometimes to get his doses of terror and exhaustion. After he showed him some museums and, with a little difficulty, a tight street where, Makoto reassured, they make the best raspberry tarts in the whole world.

“And there is the planetarium.” The dome seemed to shine blue from the inside, while the exterior walls of the Astronomy Museum shined white. If Haru forced his eyes, he could almost saw the shadows of the hanging planets. “The aquarium is on the other side,” Makoto added, afflicted.

Haruka stayed in silence for a while, searching. “That s the Art Museum…,” Said quietly, just looking at the gray building. _We should go, one of this days,_ he thought, but decided to not saying it out loud. An idea came to his mind and almost made him break into a smile. “Don´t tell me. You are also a big fan of Picasso and know all of his paints and his whole biography, right?”

Makoto looked down, trying and failing to hide his smile. “I prefer Jean Metzinger, actually.”

“Of course,” Haruka mumbled, gracefully, slightly conscious of his hands freezing against the metal. “We have to go, some day,” He said, with more confidence than he was expecting. He was proud of himself.

“Mhm,” was Makoto´s answer, and when Haruka looked at him, his green eyes made contact with his own. “Are you cold?” He asked, shaking on the middle of his sentence.

“Y-yes,” Haruka admitted, seeing the streets from a place so tall, filled with the people that usually make himself feel so small.

…

Once they went back to the apartment, the warm air seemed almost surreal, and KitKat expressed her disgust for the cold coming out of their clothes. “I want to try the lights, of the tree,” Makoto said when Haru was in the middle of the room. “I change some of them. Can I?”

Haruka looked at him confused and shrugged. “If you want.”

When he said that, the lights of the room where turned off and, for a second, the only light on the place was from the moon and from the city shining behind Makoto. Later, tiny bulbs on all the colors start their slow process of turning on trough the apartment.

Like he was thinking that been close to then could make them stop working, Haru went back to stand besides Makoto, who, in the middle of the bright light, was smiling at him childishly. Haruka felt his heart beat stronger and his cheeks stretch into a smile; He made him forget that his hands were freezing and he put them up to his face and get closer.

Makoto kissed him like they meet each other years ago. Haruka, generally, just tried to keep his mind empty during the event; it wasn’t going so well.

His hands were shaking, and he was afraid that maybe they were too cold, that they maybe aren’t welcomed. He had a sensation on his chest that made breathing harder. His lips were chapped. And then he felt hands over his waist, going slowly up on his back, and breathe out, shakingly letting himself down into that abyss.

Maybe it wasn’t a lot, but he felt safe, and cherished.

It was better now, Haruka adverted, with his hands free to go through Makoto´s hair, and with his arms holding him close, with just warm clothes between them and with no need to run away.

It was a wonder how Makoto stopped to breath at the same time as him, and that they didn’t know who was the first to restart the kiss. It was incredible, feeling his lips going soft under his touch, to know that everything he touched was part of the person he was kissing. Softly, Haruka decided that he had a special place on his heart for the small laughs the he heard each time their movements turned a bit sloppier.

When they separated, it was easier than the first time, and Haruka noticed, in the middle of his brain fog, that his hands weren’t shaking anymore. “Um,” he specified, putting them down.

“A-ah, yes,” Makoto answered, breathless, and removed his hands from Haruka´s back.

They didn’t move, and Makoto looked at him calmly, with affection, like he had all the time in the world. Then, on a second, he seemingly animated again.

“I´m going to make us something. We might catch a cold for standing outside for too long,” he turned around to put water to boil when he ended up speaking.

“Alright,” Haruka blinked. “But I will wash the cups,” he mumbled, following him to the kitchen, and taking the cups on his hands. This time it wasn’t a lot of resistance from the taller one.

 _Go along and see what happens,_ his mind said.

…

Not walking KitKat had consequences. So, when Haruka though she will he traveling on dreamland on the sink – since he _had_ a traumatizing encounter with her on the bathroom, where he wasn’t expecting to look at her on the mirror -, there she was, making various sounds and gazing at him, asking for attention and games.

At the end, the bells that Makoto bought founded a noble purpose, seeing that Makoto never had the intention of putting them on her neck. Haru spend a quarter of an hour looking at them –Human and cat- sitting on the rug, pushing the colorful bells from one side to the other before doing something productive. The just exchanged a few words before taking Makoto´s laptop and sitting on the bed with the computer on his legs.

It took him a while to realize that sitting on someone else’s bed wasn’t something that he does regularly – in reality, never – but at that time he didn’t have any good excuse, to himself or for any spectator, to move to the sofa- also, the bed was way softer than his own, finding it comfortable dangerously fast. Without mentioning the plus that Makoto´s sheets had a pattern of sea creatures.

“I just remembered, I have something to show you,” Makoto said, smiling while he threw two circular bells to KitKat, who ended up clueless, with two paws on air, didn’t knowing which one to get first.

 _Huh, imagine that,_ Haruka look curiously to the feline and discreetly, opened a new _playlist_ on Makoto´s _iTunes._ “What is it?” He asked, once he was sure he didn’t have to move anymore.

“Ah, is…,” he paused to push a bell far away. Haru´s eyes went from them to the window and quickly he added a few songs at the beginning of the list. “It´s something I found out a short time ago. They are really cute, I wanted them to be a surprise.” He looked up to give him a shy smile, that Haru replicate while he added _Prelude Suite N. 1_ from Batch.

Allowing himself to be impartial, Haru proceeded to put _Cello Concerto No. 1_ from Saint-Säens, followed by _The Battaglia,_ from Biber, while Makoto searched for something on the kitchen. Gazing at the clock, Haruka realized that it was almost midnight.

A spark od panic born on his stomach when he noticed that he had lost the sense of time, but it disappeared on a second. It was hard to be panicked when Makoto had insisted on lending him a pajama´s pair that were three sizes too big for him. Therefore, he focused on what was really relevant so close to the hour. _Soon I’m going to need to give him his gift._ Giving it a causal look, he added _Song to the Moon,_ from Dvorak.

“Ok, here it is,” Makoto got closed to the bed moments later, with a black box on his hands. He looked at Haruka´s closed legs and to the empty space besides him, and lifted his brows. “Can I?”

Haruka frowned, like to show him how ridiculous was Makoto for asking permission to sit on his own bed, and put the laptop closer to his chest. It still wasn’t ready. “Sure,” he answered, just for the sake of formality.

The bed bounced a bit with Makoto´s excitement. “Look,” he said, and once Haru confirmed that he wouldn’t look at his _playlist,_ he _did it._ “They looked really pretty, so I bought two boxes,” Makoto explained while Haruka looked at the planets renditions framed by a black plastic frame. The inscription on the box said that they were made of chocolate, even though he couldn’t think of an explanation. He asked himself if he would have the heart to eat them. “This one is for you,” Makoto continued.

“Ah, no, Haruka said by instinct, looking up to see Makoto with a distrustful expression- He went back to the box. “You didn’t have to buy me anything.”

“I know,” Makoto smiled and closed the box. Haruka really thought that he was going to take the box and save it again, but, instead, he put it on his lap, besides the laptop. “But I wanted to give you something. Merry Christmas, Haru.”

…

“It’s not wrapped,” was the most casual thing that Haruka decided to say, when he show Makoto his gift, while he was sitting on the bed. “I don’t know your opinion about wrapping paper.”

“My opinion about wrapping paper?” Makoto seemed to choke with a laugh with help of his raised brow.

He let the sea sheet fall down to the mattress to take the musical box. It looked way smaller than what Haruka remembered. He tried to not feel embarrassed.

“Oh” Makoto said once he took a good look at his present, and Haruka might had hold his breath for a second.

He was barefoot on Makoto´s orange carpet, in the middle of his house, at midnight. Surely things couldn’t go _that_ bad.

“Well, it´s incredible,” he continued, an affirmation said so softly that it didn’t seem to be directed at him. Makoto turned the key and listened closely to the notes. “Oh,” he said, again, looking at nothing in particular, then he turned to Haruka and smiled, with blush on his cheeks. Haru didn’t thought his small gift deserved so much admiration. “Can I kiss you?”

A pause. Haruka dug the carped with his feet. “Yes,” he said, hoping it wasn’t a rhetoric question. It probably wasn’t, seeing that Makoto didn´t make any other comment.

Makoto pushed his lips against his, and he made it look easy; he made it look so natural that Haru´s heart just skipped a beat. Somehow, he noticed that the kiss was also a way of saying _thank you._ And, even if he will never understand how to answer that, he decided to give his own kiss over Makoto´s. He felt it was the right decision.

…

The sheets were too big for the bed, Haruka thought, seeing how it felt from one side and feeling how it covered his whole back. Even the pillows, wrapped on the same material as the resto of the blankets, were too big. But Haruka wasn´t complaining; it was just an observation.

“Are you sure you aren´t uncomfortable?” Makoto asked, laying on his side and looking at him from his own huge pillow. “I can go to the sofa, if you want. It really doesn’t bother me.”

There was more than enough space between the, even considering the fact that Haruka didn’t enjoyed being touched while he slept. On that moment, not even their knees touched, a simple consequence of them not being totally relaxed with such closeness. More than anything, it was because both were afraid to bother the other if they ended up touching.

“No, I´m fine,” Haru answered with a low voice, like if the darkness surrounded then was forcing him to stay quiet. He was able to hear KitKat walking on the bathroom.

“Alright,” Makoto moved a little, seemingly realizing that the sheets were falling and covering Haru again with them. “Do you have something to do in the morning?”

Haruka thought about it, unconsciously tracing the shape of an orc with the tip of his finger. He could probably cook the Christmas feast in the afternoon. “Ho,” he said, and looked at Makoto, just because he enjoyed seeing his face slightly lightened by the moonlight. “You do?”

“No,” Makoto smiled, and after a moment, touch Haruka´s restless fingers. “I don’t have classes during vacations”

“I’ve never seen you going to class,” Haruka debated, touching Makoto too. “You are always at the coffee shop.”

“I have a really mysterious schedule,” Makoto´s hand proved to be a good adversary until Haru, eventually, opted to cross his fingers with the ones of the taller. Makoto didn’t opposed resistance, something that made him rejoiced. “I voted for a late breakfast, what do you think?”

It was late, Haruka nodded. Something keep his gaze on their joined hands.

“By the way, KitKat might jump to the bed later.” Haru´s attention went back to Makoto. “After her first nap on the sink, that is. It’s just so she can wake me up at the morning.”

 _She is your alarm clock,_ Haruka thought, and he couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on his lips with that image.

…

Hours later, when he woke up with extra weight pushing him from Makoto´s side, he was confused. But that wasn’t anything compared to, the disorientation that came later, when that weight seemed to travel to his chest, from when it made, from time to time, small purrs.


End file.
